Born Of Ice Bathed In Fire
by RoseClrdVibes
Summary: Santana and Quinn, both exiled to live on Earth, move to Lima when Santana receives a message from the mother she never knew existed. The story behind Santana's exile comes to light when Rachel, the girl she saved from execution nearly a century ago, shows up at McKinley and sets off a chain of events that could lead to the destruction of the entire human race.
1. Chapter 1

**A prompt that wouldn't get out of my head.**

 **I don't own any of this other than the storyline. And maybe a few characters.**

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Santana hunched over the sink as her wings folded back beneath her skin. There wasn't any pain, just discomfort. She'd gotten used to the way her spine bent back in ways that weren't humanly possible, and she was accustomed to the tearing of her skin and the way it stitched itself back together once everything was in place.

The pain was nothing more than a dull ache in the back of her mind, and when her spine snapped back into alignment, she stretched to get rid of the extra tension.

"Feel better?"

Santana turned around to face her best friend. Though the phrase is trivial, Santana could not deny what was indubitably an unspoken fact. Quinn was her closest confidant, her most trustworthy ally, and despite their species being as volatile for one another as gasoline to flames, they somehow make it work. When they first met, Quinn was nothing more than a disgruntled Fallen and just as annoying as the other exiled angels, but once she removed the holier-than-thou stick from her ass, Santana soon learned to enjoy her presence.

Santana removed the gloves she often wore at school and grabbed the bloodied paper towels into one hand. Flames danced across her fingertips, and as the paper burned, she walked to the nearest stall and dumped the ashes into the toilet. Once the water washed away the evidence, Santana replaced her gloves, and they melded to her palms, changing colors to match her skin.

When she was confident she wouldn't accidentally burn someone, she looked at Quinn and said, "Better is not the word I would use. This is the fourth time today my wings have sprouted without prompting, and I am unsure as to what it could mean. Maybe it is a warning. Maybe your father is in one of his moods again."

"He isn't my father," Quinn growled. "And stop talking like that. You're supposed to be fitting in. When you talk like that you sound as ancient as you look."

Santana ignored the end of her statement and said, "I know Fallen have trouble remembering things before their exile, but surely you recall that you and I met long before your father decided you were not worth the trouble and kicked you from the Heavens? You are just as old, if not a little younger than I am. And the only reason I remember all of it is because you nearly took my head off due to some ridiculous tradition you and your kin feel necessary to signify an angel's transition into adulthood."

"That creature sitting on the throne is not my father," Quinn hissed. "A true father would not have cast his firstborn from the Heavens simply because it was not the son he so desperately desired. Also, I apologized for that already. The more you bring it up, the more I wish I hadn't spared your life."

Santana sighed and grabbed her books from Quinn. "You keep saying that as if you had a choice. Killing me would have done you more harm than good. I might be an exile like you, but unlike you, my exile was not in favor of the people I serve. Should you have drawn even the smallest amount of blood, you would have brought war to your doorstep that I doubt Daddy Dearest would have appreciated. Consider our friendship your saving grace," she said.

Quinn snorted and said, "Your humbleness always manages to astound me, Princess."

"Do not-

"Call you that?" Quinn finished. She smiled and added, "Not a chance."

Santana rolled her eyes before she unlocked the bathroom door and removed the charm placed around them. Almost immediately, the noise from the school filtered through the walls and Santana adjusted the books in her arm. She stood up straighter, forced a look of indifference on her face, and just like that, Santana Lopez was walking out of the bathroom with her co-captain Quinn Fabray matching her stride.

The rest of the students scattered to avoid being in their direct path, but there were a few who remained where they stood. The muscles in Santana's back twitched again, and she pumped magic into keeping her wings at bay. Her teeth began to ache, and it took every ounce of willpower not to shift in the middle of the hallway. She looked around, her eyes searching for the cause when she caught a whiff of something that made her recent troubles with her body make a lot more sense. She hadn't realized she was shaking until Quinn grabbed her by the arm and squeezed.

"You look like you're about to implode. What the hell is wrong with you?" Quinn asked in a low voice.

"Do you remember when I told you my people are only half of a whole?" At Quinn's nod, Santana continued, "Well, let me say I have discovered why my wings refuse to stay in place."

"Would you like to share with the class?"

"You will see soon enough," Santana murmured.

She closed her eyes and let her magic take over. Flashing back to when she first arrived in Lima, first came to her mother's house, Santana remembered settling into her new home and her mother making dinner. Roast beef, mashed potatoes, and spinach for the main course with a slice of apple pie and ice cream for dessert. It was an odd and foreign collection of foods, but Santana couldn't forget the smell even if she wanted to. The combination of the cinnamon, the vanilla, the apples, the crust and the honey her mother mixed together warmed her entire being whenever she thought about it.

And that was what she smelled in the middle of a high school hallway: her mother's apple pie.

It was instinctual, searching for the source of the beautiful scent, and when she opened her eyes, she found the girl responsible. Had it not been for Quinn pinching Santana on the hip, she would have shifted in front of the entire school and broke the vow she made to her mother. The girl turned around as if she could sense Santana nearby, and their eyes met. Blue eyes widened in disbelief, and Santana's blood turned to ice.

"Rachel?" Santana whispered.

Quinn gasped, and even across the hall and beyond hearing range, Santana could hear the breathless murmur of her name leave Rachel's lips, and suddenly she couldn't breathe. Santana quickly spun on her heel, Quinn right behind her, and they weaved their way through the crowds, past the front office, and out the front door towards the parking lot. Santana unlocked her car, tossed her bag into the backseat, and once Quinn settled in the passenger's seat, Santana backed out of her spot and drove off the lot.

It wasn't until they were on the opposite side of town, near the town lines, did Quinn finally speak.

"That was _the_ Rachel, wasn't it?" she asked.

"Yes."

"The same Rachel that-" Quinn stopped and clamped her mouth shut when Santana punched the dashboard.

Santana drove the car onto the side of the road and pushed open her door and exited the vehicle. She threw her head back and yelled. She continued to scream until her throat was raw and then she dropped to her knees. Santana heard Quinn as she walked over and sat on the ground beside her. In a rare display of intimacy, Santana leaned into Quinn and sighed.

"Out of all the people in the four realms, out of all the beings they could have bonded me with, they bond me with her. The same girl I saved from execution at my father's hand because he believed her people were going to produce a new generation of warriors whose sole purpose in life was to murder and eliminate any demon they happen upon. The same girl I personally delivered to this realm in hopes that she would find a good family and that I would never see her again. The same girl that cost me everything."

Quinn said nothing, and the two of them sat on the side of the road until the sun dipped beneath the horizon. When night fell, and Santana's phone started to ring, she hauled them both to their feet and saw that it was nearly nine p.m.

"What are you going to do?" Quinn asked.

Santana glanced up at the stars and took a deep breath before she said, "I am going to go home and go to sleep. Tomorrow will still come whether I have the answers or not, and I have a feeling Rachel is just as confused as I am."


	2. Chapter 2

**I don't own anything, just having fun.**

 **I'm human, so there might be some mistakes.**

* * *

Everyone around town had on hoodies and jackets to fight the cold Ohio weather, but not Rachel. Winter was her favorite season, but autumn came pretty close, so the cool breeze winding its way through Lima was a welcome relief. It made up for the three months she foolishly lived in Miami. Being in that weather, for longer than a few days, had her melting close to something like an ice cream cone dropped on the hot cement. Rachel could barely function when she wasn't sitting in a tub full of ice or standing in the rain from a thunderstorm she created.

But Miami wasn't surrounded by trees and mountains. Having the ocean nearby was its saving grace, despite all the nights she spent vomiting all the excess salt.

Fortunately, Rachel had an urge to the Midwest. Unfortunately, she ended up in landlocked Lima, Ohio. It was bittersweet. She wasn't on the verge of passing out, but she was surrounded by too much earth, too much dirt and flora. Rachel needed water to survive, and she was glad there was a non-magic induced thunderstorm coming later that evening. She could use a night in the rain to recharge and not have to take a three-hour shower to have the strength to get through an average school day.

Rachel had just put the car in park when someone yanked open her door. Before Rachel could catch up on what was happening, she was out of her car and pulled towards the side of the building.

"Why are you here?"

Rachel glared at Santana and massaged her arm. "Why can't you greet me like a normal person?" she hissed.

"Because I am far from normal, as are you. Now answer the question. Our last conversation hinted that you would stay away from me and I would stay away from you for both our sakes. This is the complete opposite of that."

"It wasn't on purpose! I woke up one day with the urge to be here. It's not something I can control. I go wherever my instinct takes me, and this is where it took me, though I'm starting to think it's broken. I can't stay here for too long, or I'll wither away and die like-" Rachel stopped and ground her teeth together. Santana wasn't to blame. It was her father's decision, and Santana lost everything getting Rachel out of harm's way. "Look, I'm just as confused as you are. I didn't exactly wake up yesterday thinking I'd run into the girl that saved my life almost a hundred years ago," she said.

Santana glanced to the side, apparently thinking about something, and Rachel took advantage of the distraction. Where were the fangs, the wings, or the pitch black eyes that snuffed out any sense of humanity that rested in Santana's soul? Where was the demon that used to strike fear into the heart of every being that had the misfortune of being in her presence? The girl standing in front of her was no Princess of the Underworld and was no threat to Rachel. She had a plan, to test her theory, but Santana's eyes snapped to hers, and for a moment, Rachel could've sworn they were the same black she remembered. But then the color was gone, and Santana was much closer than she was before.

"It would be in your best interest not to do what you are thinking of doing. Do not let this outer shell fool you as I am still the danger that I was a hundred years ago. I am the same Princess from two hundred years ago, and I can assure you that you will live to regret your next action should you follow through with it."

Rachel swallowed and stepped back onto the brick wall, trying to put space between them, but her voice died in her throat when Santana followed.

"I am very much so the same demon from your past," she whispered. "And I will show you whatever you need to satisfy that curiosity burning within your chest. But do not test me, Rachel, or your need for water will be the least of your worries."

Santana stalked off, tension radiating from her shoulders, and when she was gone, Rachel deflated against the wall. Taking a deep breath, the smell of burning wood and cinnamon enveloped her and Rachel's eyes rolled to the back of her head. The wall was the only thing keeping her from hitting the ground, and when the world wasn't spinning at her feet, Rachel opened her eyes and saw that the parking lot was almost full. Shaking off the weird feeling, Rachel smoothed the wrinkles from her tank and brushed the brick dust from her jeans. She grabbed at the gem around her neck, hidden beneath her shirt, and said the mantra her mother taught her when she was a child. The sapphire gem, known as Poseidon's Eye, was the source of her people's power, and with it came a responsibility that not even Santana would carry.

Rachel let the magic do its work, allowing it calm her nerves, and she tucked it back against her collarbone before she went inside of the school.

Hopefully, her day would go much smoother than the morning.

 **BOIBIFBOIBIFBOIBIF**

Santana stood under the shower head and let the water cascade over her. If there was an insane amount of steam floating around the bathroom, no one said anything about it. At least, no one but Quinn.

"You're going to use up all the hot water again Satan!"

The other girls snickered and thought the nickname was amusing, but coming from Quinn, it was childish, and Santana switched off the hot water much to the delight of her fellow cheerleaders.

"Jeez, it's suffocating just being in the bathroom. Why don't you bathe at home?"

"I cannot find your type of company at my residence," Santana said.

"No one can."

"Except Puckerman, maybe," one of the girls muttered under breath.

"Something to say, Torrence?" Quinn called out.

The cheerleader yelped and exited the locker room with the others hot on her heels. No one liked Quinn when she started using last names. It was their warning they were pushing it and that Quinn was losing her patience.

When she was sure they were the only ones in there, Quinn jogged over and locked the door while Santana removed the bracelet from her wrist. She shifted into her natural state and Quinn remained on the other side of the lockers. Though they were friends, sisters even, their baser selves would never get along as well as they do. It was something they had no control over.

Santana stood in front of the mirror, staring at the red wings stretched to the side, and sighed. "I miss my wings, my real wings," she said.

"I know. Me too."

The two of them said nothing for nearly five minutes before Quinn broke it by asking Santana what that was on her hip. Santana frowned, and Quinn gestured to her side. "You have a mark on your hip that I don't remember seeing," she said.

Santana looked down, and sure enough, there was a fresh mark etched above her right hip. It took her two seconds to realize what it was, and she clicked her tongue against her teeth. "It's the symbol for an Elemental," she said, "specifically the Aquatic Coven."

"Gonna go out on a limb and say Rachel's one of them?"

"Indeed."

"How did you get that on your skin? And what does an Aquatic Elemental do exactly?"

"I had direct contact with her this morning so it could have happened then. I did not feel anything on her end, so it had to be on mine. Second, Rachel is cryokinetic, atmokinetic, and hydrokinetic among other things," Santana said distractedly, poking at the sensitive skin.

"Saving the others for later, what's atmokinetic?" Quinn asked.

"She can control the weather. Well, most of it. Long as water's involved, she can create what she wants. For example, blizzards, hail, rain, hurricanes, sleet, etc."

"Wow. Is there anything else you know about her people? Wait, are they people or something in between?"

"They are something in between. They bleed and have to eat food to survive, but as you see, they do not age the same. Rachel is older than she looks. Also, I know all of what she can do, but for the sake of the conversation, you should only know that she needs water. Think of it this way, I have fire running through my veins, and the same can be said for Rachel. She is, for all intents and purposes, made of water. Her people produce water, control it, manipulate it, and depend on it to survive. Without an environment conducive to her respective element, she will feel the repercussions sooner rather than later. I imagine by lunchtime Rachel will be dead on her feet, and spending the entire period in the bathroom running her hands under the water. Keep in mind it has to be fresh water. Her people can live off salt water or chlorine water, but it does cause certain deficiencies in their systems."

"Again, I'll ask about that later, but don't you have a pool at home? Like a freshwater pool?"

"Yes. Why do you ask?"

"You're an idiot," Quinn deadpanned.

Santana blinked and tried to think of why Quinn would ask her that. She drew a blank and said, "I do not understand how you made a connection between me having a pool and Rachel."

"You have a massive pool in your basement, filled with fresh water every day, and you can't figure out how I made the connection between that large body of water and your soul bond who needs fresh water to live? Really?"

Santana flushed in embarrassment, a rare emotion from her, and she cleared her throat, "Oh, well, when you put it that way. I guess the connection is there."

"No shit, Sherlock."

"So, do I ask her to come over for dinner, throw her in the pool and tell her the truth?"

"You're hopeless."

Quinn turned and walked out of the locker room, leaving Santana alone to her thoughts. She put back on the bracelet; shuddering has her wings and teeth receded and came up with a million different ways to get Rachel to her house as the day rolled on.

By the time lunch came around, and Rachel was stumbling her way to the bathroom, Santana had her epiphany, and she made a mental note to treat Quinn to a fancy dinner at her favorite restaurant over the weekend. As she jogged to catch up to Rachel, the Elemental stopped and collapsed into the lockers, and Santana picked up her speed just enough to catch her before she hit the ground. The other girl was pale, and her eyes were turning a dull shade of gray.

Even if Rachel were just another Elemental and not her soul bond, Santana still would not be able to stomach leaving Rachel to fend for herself in such a waterless city. Her heart was part of the reason why she was exiled from her home. Demons like her father had no room in their heart for generosity and compassion. To him, that made a demon weak, and it hurt him to see his only child plagued by such a human emotion.

His words, not hers.

"Come on," Santana said. "I got you."

Rachel grunted and reluctantly leaned into Santana's chest. "You better not kill me. It wouldn't be a fair fight," she said weakly.

"Hush. I have something that will help you, and I think you will thank me for it once you are cognizant and capable of standing on your own two feet."

"We'll see."

"Yes, I guess we will."


	3. Chapter 3

**I don't own any of this, just having fun.**

 **I'm human so there might be some mistakes.**

* * *

"Hey, Baby Lucy, Lucy Q. How was school? Also, who's that in the pool?"

Santana groaned, "Mama, you said you wouldn't call me that anymore."

Quinn and her mother both froze with broad smiles on their faces. Santana's brow furrowed, trying to figure out what she said or did to warrant that reaction, when the two of them high-fived and laughed.

"You owe me ten bucks. I told you I could get her to break faster than you could," her mother said to Quinn.

"It's insane. We've known each for nearly nine decades, and I've never heard her use a contraction before. She's always talking about blending in and being under the radar, but she goes around talking like a damn robot," Quinn said.

"First, I'm standing right here so quit talking like I'm not. Second, I'm at home, and I'm with family so-" Santana paused to yawn before she continued, "there's no need for me to keep up the act."

"Don't you think you should start, I don't know, doing this at school?"

Santana grunted her response before she yawned once more and leaned over to rest on the kitchen island.

"Are you okay sweetheart?" her mother asked.

Santana watched as her hand raised, as if she was going to check Santana's temperature, but then dropped it when she remembered what happened the last time. Second degree burns hurt more than most people realized. Santana knew there were hard days, and she knew there were even harder days, but she admired her mother for at least trying to pretend like she gave birth to a healthy child and not the Spawn of-

"Satan, you alright?" Quinn said, poking Santana in the shoulder.

"I will be. I probably need to spend a night in the pit," Santana sighed.

"When was the last time you were out there?"

"Two weeks ago. I've been doing hot showers instead."

"You know better than that," her mother scolded. "You're supposed to be in the pit at least three times a week."

"I know, Mama. I don't like being down there late at night by myself. It reminds me too much of home, and I'd rather not remember certain things about that place."

Quinn and her mother nodded, both dropping the subject, and in the silence, Santana heard soft breathing coming from behind the basement door. She pretended not to hear anything and saw that Quinn was too distracted by the piece of cake her mother put out to recognize Rachel was eavesdropping on their conversation.

"To answer your question mother, the girl in the pool is Rachel," Santana said.

"Rachel, Rachel? The girl you said you'd never see again?"

"Yes, that one."

"Oh. That's…wow. Well, I put a towel out for her and some lotion just in case. And I reset the filter so we'll get fresh water tonight instead of tomorrow morning per usual."

"Thanks. I'm sure she appreciates it."

"I still can't believe you found a house with a freshwater pool that has its own filter," Quinn said through a mouthful of cake.

"I didn't," her mother said. "This house was a gift."

"Really? From who?"

"Her father."

Quinn started to laugh, thinking she was joking, but Santana and her mother merely stared at her.

"Wait, are you serious? Her Dad gave you this house?"

Santana's mother smiled and said, "Yep. He made it clear from the moment we slept together that I was only supposed to carry his seed. After Santana was born, he gave me something in return. Not only do I live however long as she does, I never have to want for anything. I work because I want to not because I have too, and this house was a gift for us both. He told me it was a present from the Oracles, telling him the house would come in handy in the future, and we left it at that. Fast forward a few hundred years, and here we are, living it up in Lima, Ohio."

The basement door creaked again, and Quinn stiffened slightly. Santana tapped her nail against the counter and subtly shook her head to keep Quinn from saying anything. To fill the silence, Santana's mother told them stories about her pregnancy. She told them about the cravings she had and how many times she had to go to the hospital for broken bones or bruised organs, and the three of them nearly forgot there was a guest in the house until Santana sighed and turned to where she knew Rachel was hiding.

"You can come out now," she called out.

There was a bump, a hiss, and Rachel came out from behind the door rubbing her elbow. "How'd you know I was there?" she asked.

Santana tugged on her ear and said, "I heard you breathing. Are you okay?"

"Better. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Cue awkward silence.

Santana was afraid of saying the wrong thing, saying the right thing with wrong connotations, or just screwing everything up before she got a chance to get to know the girl standing in her kitchen. Rachel was attractive, sure, but other than that, she was primarily a stranger, and it seemed as if something larger than life wanted them around each other.

So who was she to ignore the divine signs?

While she was distracted, Santana's mother stepped forward and stuck out her hand, "Hi, I'm Maria Lopez. And you are?" she asked.

"Santana's soul bond," Quinn said without thinking.

"Her what?!" Rachel and Maria both shouted.

Santana glared and huffed, "Not important."

"I think it is." Maria folded her arms and smirked at Santana's discomfort. "If I'm not mistaken, a soul bond is a pretty big thing," she said.

"It is," Rachel pointed out. "In fact, it's right up there with having a soulmate, if I remember my lessons correctly."

"Lessons, dear?" Maria asked. "What lessons?"

"When I was younger, my mom explained all the creatures and beings around me so that I wouldn't get caught off guard and so I would be aware of what each meant in case I got caught up in any of it. Demons have soul bonds, angels and humans have a love of free will, and everyone else usually has a soulmate or a destined lover."

"I hope you don't mind me asking, but what exactly are you?"

"It depends on who you ask. Most people call me an Elemental, some call me a Child of Poseidon, and others call me Gelu. Demons call my people their enemy, angels call us allies, and humans call us good entertainment, and everyone else pretends we don't exist."

Quinn swallowed another piece of cake and said, "So you know about soul bonds and everything? Know how they work? Because Santana hasn't said much of anything since she revealed that little fact yesterday and I am so interested in finding out more details."

"Sure. What do you want to know?"

"Well, we don't have to do this now. Maybe we can go out to dinner-

"Nope," Santana interrupted.

"But-"

"No."

"Why can't I-"

"Rachel, shouldn't you be getting ready to go home? Don't you want to be at home for the storm?"

"You're sending me home? So soon?" Rachel asked, giving Santana a look that made her heart skip a beat.

Coughing, Santana gestured widely with her arms and ignored the amused smiles on Quinn and her mother's face. "Fuck this. I'm going upstairs. I'm going to get ready for tonight. You three have fun doing whatever you're going to do," she said.

She left without waiting for a response and headed upstairs to her room. The last thing she heard before she closed her door was Quinn as she shouted, "Holy shit, she cursed!"


	4. Chapter 4

**Just having fun, I don't own any of this.**

 **I'm human, so there might be some mistakes.**

* * *

Santana had a tank top in one hand and a pair of shorts in the other when Rachel opened her bedroom door. The first thing that went through her mind was how did Rachel manage to open the door without burning her hand, and the second was why did it have to be Rachel?

"Wow. I did not take you for a demon who wore boxers." Rachel squinted and cocked her head to the side as she added, "Nor did I take you for a Hufflepuff. I would think you would be more Slytherin than anything. Gryffindor, maybe, but not Hufflepuff."

"Not all demons are evil," Santana grumbled.

"Clearly."

"Okay, look, not to be rude or anything but why are you here?"

Rachel grinned and slid her hands into her pants pockets. "Your Mom invited me to stay for dinner, and Quinn sent me up here to make sure you didn't forget to pack an extra set of clothes."

"I forget to bring pants one time, one fucking time, and she won't let me live it down."

"I'll ask her to tell me about it one day," Rachel teased.

"Please stay away from Quinn when I'm not around. Fallen angels are malicious creatures who only care about themselves."

Santana jumped when Quinn told her to fuck off from all the way downstairs, and Rachel covered her mouth with her hand as she laughed. Santana refrained from commenting, mostly because she was running out of energy, and she needed to get to the Pit before it got too low.

"I enjoy your company, Rachel, and I do, but-

"Why did you come down into the caverns that night?"

The question caught Santana off guard, and she plopped down on her bed. Like she told her mom, she never thought she would see Rachel again, so she never prepared an explanation, but with Rachel standing in front of her, practically backing her into a corner, Santana had no choice but to come clean.

Out of habit, she slipped back into her old mannerisms as she recounted what she knew from that night, "My father and I were on different sides when it came to your people. I believed you were worth sparing, worth keeping an eye on while he thought your people needed to die before you became a credible threat. It was a foolish argument, one that resulted in me running off to take my anger out on someone else. I was halfway to the barracks when I passed the caverns. The moment I entered, I saw firsthand the damage my father was doing. The crying, the begging, the gasping for air, and the screaming echoed in my ears as I made my way through the passages. Most of you were dead or dying, not going to see another day, and my anger grew with each step.

"I was close to the end, close to turning around when I saw you. You were in the last cage in the last cavern, crumpled in the corner like a withering flower, and you looked up at me. You did not have the same hopeless look in your eyes as everyone else. I saw your stubbornness, your unwillingness to die so easily, and something propelled me. After I kidnapped you, I was lost. It was not until I was standing in the middle of nowhere with a dying Elemental in my arms did the idea come to me. You see, Hiram and Leroy were a couple of fallen angels I met in passing when I was younger. I kept in touch because they were sweet and they were good men, and I knew if I asked, they would take care of you no matter what. The entire trip you were silent. You just stared at me, too weak to do anything other than be wary and confused about what I was doing, but eventually, you fell asleep. When we got to Seattle, I called for Hiram and Leroy and explained everything to them. I marked your chest with the crest of my family in hopes that it would protect you from hunters that may catch your scent, and I carried you to the edge of Puget Sound. I placed you in the water, said my peace to Hiram and Leroy, and I walked away. That was supposed to be the end of it."

"I see. And do you regret saving me?"

Santana shook her head no, and Rachel sighed.

"You should," she said.

"Why?"

"Because my life would have been a lot easier had you let me die down there."

"Are you serious?" Santana exclaimed. "You would rather be dead than alive?"

"Yes! If it meant not watching both sets of parents I've ever known die in front of me then yes, Santana, I would prefer to be dead. Do you have any idea what I've been through the last nine decades? I lost Hiram and Leroy ten years after you left. That left me alone, in Seattle, where people would start to wonder why I haven't aged the same way like the other girls in my school. Seattle was perfect, good weather, nice cool rain with a body of water that made me feel like I'd never left home. Then I had to get on a plane and city hop for eighty years because nowhere was safe. Nowhere gave me the same peace I had in Washington with my fathers. Despite the protection you gave me, hunters still found me and made my life hell. I knew they couldn't get to me, but that doesn't mean it still wasn't terrifying to wake up in the middle of the night with strange men hovering over your bed, waiting, watching, and hoping that they could catch a weak spot in the magic."

"I am sorry, but I do not regret saving your life."

"Even when I cost you everything you'd ever loved?"

Santana winced and stood up. She went back to packing her bag and ignored the frustrated huff Rachel made.

"You lost everything because of me. Your home, your father, your magic, and-

Santana spun around and said, "Wait, what? Who told you that?"

"Which part?"

"About my magic. No one outside of Quinn and my mother knows about that."

"Well, I was out for a run a few nights ago, when I first got to Lima, and I ran into a couple of demons. I recognized their markings, and they were drunk. They didn't seem to know what I was but I had enough energy to fight them off if need be. Anyway, they stopped me, bothered me a bit about being out so late, and when they assumed I was going to McKinley, they told me to stay away from you. They said a banished Princess with no magic is more dangerous than a demon with no soul. While I was running back to my house, careful to make sure they weren't following me, one yelled that you were nothing more than a glorified Fallen with fangs. Something like that."

"This was in Lima? Did you tell them you knew me?"

"Yes, I've been here for a few days. I just started school late and of course not. I knew better than to tell them that."

"You have been in Lima for how long, exactly?"

"Long enough," Rachel said.

Santana made a mental note to ask about that later, especially since Rachel gave her the impression she had no idea Santana was in Lima earlier that day, and she swallowed her response. There was the sound of footsteps, and Rachel moved to the side just as Quinn came into the room.

"Did I just hear there are demons in town?" she asked, slightly out of breath.

"Unfortunately, but I do not have time to deal with it yet."

Santana grabbed her half-packed bag off the floor and walked over to Rachel. Similar to their talk on the side of the school, Rachel had her back to the wall, and Santana was way too close for comfort. Santana bared her teeth, her fangs peeking through her gums, and hissed, "You stay with Quinn or my mother until I get back, clear?"

"Why is it such a big deal that demons are in Lima? Aren't they everywhere?" Rachel said.

"Everywhere South, yes. Demons do not travel this far North unless they have too, and if there are more than one in the area, then something is wrong. My father is not stupid enough to have me killed, but that does not mean there is not someone out there willing to try."

"I think you're overreacting."

"Trust me when I say I know demons, Rachel. Stay in the house. Do not be alone. Promise me you will honor those requests."

Rachel searched Santana's eyes, looking for anything that could hint at it being nothing more than an overreaction, but the raw fear and anger reflecting back at her told Rachel the situation was a lot more serious than she believed.

"I promise," she whispered.

"Good. I will be back soon."

And just like that, Santana pushed away from Rachel and made her way down the stairs. She might have been without the magic she was born with, but she was not vulnerable. She slammed her palm against the front door and pumped what little self-taught magic she knew into the wood. When she heard her mother coming down the hall, Santana turned slightly and caught the worried frown creased on her mother's forehead.

"What's going on? Why did Quinn run off like that?" her mother asked.

"If any demon that is not me crosses this threshold, kill it," Santana warned.

"San-

"Mama, please."

Her mother sighed and nodded, and Santana opened the door. She ran out onto the porch, took a deep breath, and sprinted through the rain towards the Pit her mother built for her when she needed to recharge. The rain was cold, colder than usual, and she had a belated thought that there had not been any demon sightings within a hundred miles of Lima until Rachel showed up.


	5. Chapter 5

**I don't own any of this, just having fun.**

 **I'm human, so there might be some mistakes.**

 **Happy Pride Month Everyone! Love who you love because at the end of the day all that matters is your happiness.**

 **Sincerely, a Queer kid from the South**

* * *

Rachel stood in the shower with her eyes closed. She needed time to think, away from Quinn, Santana, and Maria, and she did her best thinking when there was water around. Rachel also had no interest in doing her thinking while she was at Santana's house. After she woke up, everything felt too intense, and she panicked. Rachel ran all the way home, full speed, uncaring how crazy she looked sprinting through town wearing nothing but a pair of shorts and a tank top in fifty-degree weather.

The severity of their situation weighed heavily on her, and she wanted to know why, and how, she became the catalyst of it all.

* * *

 ** _(Two Hours Earlier)_**

* * *

 _After Santana left, Rachel took her time coming down the stairs. She'd spent her time snooping through Santana's things, feeling no guilt for her actions, and by the time she made it to the kitchen, she found Maria. The other woman was smoking a cigar while she stirred a large pot gumbo. Or at least, it looked like gumbo. There was a shit ton of seafood and little thing else._

 _"Wow, uh, that's a lot of, um, shrimp," she said._

 _Maria turned and laughed shortly. "You can say that. Normally I'd make steaks, but Santana ate most of the meat yesterday, and I forgot to go to the store. I had shrimp, crab, and scallops left. So I threw it all in a pot and voila, some generic gumbo. Santana won't mind though. Long as it's meat and edible, she'll eat it, and a lot of it. I ordered extra pizza for the three of us."_

 _"Wait, Santana's gonna eat that entire pot by herself?"_

 _Maria grinned and nodded. "Yup. And two of the six pizzas I ordered. Santana and Quinn can pack away food, but Quinn has a limit to what she can and can't eat. Santana has no such limits. She eats a lot on a regular basis, but once she comes in from the Pit, it's twice as bad. But I wouldn't mention it. She's embarrassed by the number of calories she burns and the amount of food she has to eat to stay healthy," she said._

 _"On a scale of one to ten…"_

 _"Two months ago, Santana came in from the Pit, and she was miserable because her hunger was insatiable. Do you want to know how much she ate? Ten meat lover's pizza, four double cheeseburgers, and still had room for a half rack of ribs. So I guess you can say she's off the scale by a landslide."_

 _Rachel whistled and gestured to the counter. "May I?"_

 _"Go ahead. Quinn does it all the time, and I've given up trying to correct her."_

 _Rachel hopped up and thought about how she planned on approaching Santana with Maria. Outside of the obvious, she knew nothing about her, and she could easily ask Santana, but she wanted it to come from someone with a slightly less biased opinion._

 _"You can ask whatever you want, Rachel. There aren't many secrets, and Santana doesn't care about these kinds of things."_

 _She blushed at being caught and cleared her throat. "I'll start with something easy. What is this Pit that you guys keep referring too? Is it like a shed or an actual underground type thing? Why did you need it? What does she do there? Who built it? You know, all that." she asked._

 _"That's your version of easy? I'd like to see your hard stuff. Anyway, the Pit keeps Santana from having flameouts. Her words, not mine. Quite a while ago, shortly after she arrived, Lima had a very rare cold and rainy spell. Santana wasn't used to it, and somehow she ended up setting the house on fire. Unfortunately, the smoke caught the attention of the fire department, and I had to tell Santana to hide in the woods. The next morning, the house was rebuilt, and no one remembered the fire. Santana did, however, and she felt guilty. So, I grabbed some wood, steel, and spent the next week or so digging out and building a bunker-type space. It's pretty much a steel box underground. I go out there whenever she finishes and refill it with fresh wood. When she gets down there, Santana has to set the wood on fire with a lighter or a match, and once it starts to burn, she puts her hand directly into the flames. Think of it this way. The fire is like a battery for her core. The flames travel through her veins and the longer she stays down there, the more she recharges. Hence why I built it. She needs a place to burnout, and catch her breath. Make sense?"_

 _"It's a controlled bonfire for her soul." Rachel blushed when she realized that sounded better in her head. "Sorry. That was stupid," she said before Maria could respond._

 _Maria snorted and gave Rachel a look before she said, "Nothing's stupid and don't apologize. You say what's on your mind, no matter what, and you'll find that most people will respect you for it. I learned that from good ole Lucy."_

 _"Uh, Lucy?"_

 _"Lucifer, dear. Satan. Santana's namesake?"_

 _"Are you serious? You call him Lucy?"_

 _"To his face and behind his back. He and I have a special relationship. I'm the mother of his firstborn. He better damn well respect me, or I'll make his life a living Hell. All pun intended."_

 _Rachel bobbed her head but stiffened when Maria's words registered in her mind. She felt something familiar, something like fear creep up her spine, and she said, "Did you say Santana is firstborn? As in there are more of?"_

 _Maria stopped what she was doing and turned down the heat on the stove. She wiped her hands on a towel, snuffed out her cigar, and sighed. "Look, they're all his children, but I know what you're asking. He has three 'main' children if you will. Santana, her brother Solomon, and their youngest brother Simon. Santana is the most powerful, Solomon is the strongest, and Simon prefers to be left alone. I had Santana first, and then Lucy moved on when he decided he wanted a boy."_

 _"Why did he have to move on to someone else? Why couldn't you have her brother?"_

 _"Because a demon child ruins the female's reproductive system. My mother can no longer have children, not even with supernatural assistance."_

 _Rachel and Maria jumped when Santana came into the kitchen, smoke rising off her skin, and Rachel gasped at the alarming amount of tattoos she had on her body._

 _"How did you get in the house? Quinn demon-proofed the exterior," Maria asked, not even bothered by the fact no one heard Santana come in._

 _"I climbed the house and came in through my bedroom window."_

 _"Of course you did. Did you replace the gutter I'm almost positive you broke in doing so?"_

 _"Quinn is repairing it now, and for the record, it was an accident. You promised it would be sturdy the last time it broke."_

 _"You mean the last time you broke it?"_

 _"Semantics."_

 _Rachel heard talking, knew they were talking, but again, her focus was on the ink littered across Santana's skin. Most of it was tribal, she knew that much, but some of it was personal. Up and down Santana's neck were phrases written in mostly dead languages, like Biblical Hebrew and Sanskrit. Down her left arm were flowers, vines, and hummingbirds while her right arm was all tribal. Rachel recognized most of the demon ink, seeing it on nearly every demon she comes across, but the marks were a little different. Rachel studied the differences, noting the crest etched on the back of Santana's right hand, and made a mental note to ask about them later._

 _"You're staring."_

 _Rachel twitched and glanced to the side to see a smirking Quinn standing right beside her. The Fallen angel started to laugh and patted Rachel on the shoulder._

 _"Don't worry. I was the same way when I saw them the first time. They're intimidating."_

 _"Something like that," Rachel murmured._

 _"Oh? I take that to mean you're having a different reaction to them?" Quinn teased._

 _Rachel rolled her eyes and flipped Quinn off, choosing not to think too hard about why that comment bothered her so much. Santana was talking to her mother, but Rachel could see the small smile on her face, and she decided to change the subject._

 _"Why did you panic about there being demons in Lima?" she asked._

 _Santana started smoking more than she did when she first arrived, and she rolled her neck around as she moved to stand near the window. "Because they didn't show up until you got here," she said._

 _"What? Never?"_

 _"Nope. In the forty years I have been here, no demon has ever crossed the town line until you did."_

 _Rachel cocked her head to the side. "How is that possible?" she asked._

 _"Which part?"_

 _"You've lived here that long and no one's noticed?"_

 _"They forgot every five years."_

 _"Are you kidding me?"_

 _"No. There is a device in town, protected by some local witches. Every five years, I go down there, they reset it, and I re-enroll in McKinley. I have graduated high school ten different times and this year makes my eleventh. I have interacted with five different principals, fourteen different basketball coaches, and almost a hundred various people in and out of the school. I know every nook and cranny of the building, and I know every secret it holds. Trust me when I say there are never any surprises, not until yesterday morning."_

 _"When you saw me?" Rachel guessed. She was still reeling from the fact Santana lived in one spot for so long. She couldn't imagine living anywhere, well, maybe Seattle, but she couldn't see herself living anywhere for longer than a year or two._

 _"Exactly. You were a variable I was unprepared for, and now demons are knocking on my doorstep."_

 _"You still haven't told me why that's a bad thing," Rachel pointed out._

 _Santana clicked her teeth and rose to her full height. The action forced Rachel and Quinn, even Maria, to take several steps back when her wings unfurled in the middle of the kitchen, narrowly missing knocking over the pot on the stove. Quinn was right. With Santana's wings out, her fangs down, and her eyes the same solid black Rachel remembered, the tattoos made her look even more intimidating, which didn't seem possible until that moment. But everything became irrelevant to Rachel when Santana opened her mouth and spoke._

 _"Let me make one thing clear to you, to all of you, because I do not think any of you understand just how dangerous it is for more than one demon to be in this town. Quinn knows that I lost my interest in associating with demons quite a long time ago. I have had five centuries to work through what happened, and I have found my peace. I would like to keep it that way. Yes, I will admit, it does feel monotonous to go through the same thing every five years, but in the process, I meet new people, make new friends, and I can visit the same places that are aging just like me. Your arrival, Rachel, is more than a coincidence. Something drew you here, just as something draws those demons here. Unfortunately, you have lived in a bubble for far too long, and you need to understand that when demons flock to one spot, as do angels, and when a large number of angels gather in one place, hunters catch the scent and follow. You, me, Quinn, a collection of hunters, demons, angels, and witches in the same small town spells a whole lot of trouble that could result in the death of every human being within a hundred mile radius. Now, do you understand why I am reacting the way that I am?"_

 _Rachel managed to nod before she hit the kitchen floor and the room went black._


	6. Chapter 6

**I don't own any of this, just having fun.**

 **I'm human, so there might be some mistakes.**

 **Also, to the people reviewing and telling me to keep up the good work, thanks a million. Much appreciated for the support.**

* * *

Finn's hand tightened around the blade as he gutted the demon standing ahead of him. That was the fourth one in three days, and he didn't like the growing population. He wiped the blood on his pants and kneeled down, watching the red eyes dim to brown and finally the demon took its last breath. It was one thing to hang around Santana, having to smile in her face while he imagined the different ways he'd kill her and send her back to the depths of the Underworld she came from, but it was another to be walking down the street and come across a stray one hanging in the park.

"That's the fourth one in three days. I'm starting to think we have ourselves an infestation."

Finn sheathed his blade and glanced around the park. "I have a feeling there are more coming. You know what this means, don't you?" he asked.

Azimio, the only other hunter Finn's age, kneeled by the body and grunted, "Means we need to have a little conversation with our resident Princess."

"Ex-Princess. Her brother's the Crowned Prince, and I wouldn't put it past that motherfucker to try and take out his only competition," Finn said.

"What about the youngest one?"

"He wants nothing to do with the royal family. He's living his best life in Los Angeles, pretending that his realm doesn't even exist."

Azimio hummed and stood up, brushing the dirt from his knees. "Well, she'll be at school later. Let's make plans to figure out just what the hell is going on, and figure out what her role in all of this is," he said.

"Agreed, but first, let's make a little pit stop. There's a Gelu here that could be worth a lot of money. Last of her kind, and I know where she lives. I don't want to risk her catching our scent and running off. My father says a lot of hunters have been searching for her, says she's been dodging some of the best, but there's a ten million reward out for her head and four million for her heart. I was thinking a trip to the Maldives, soak up some sun and maybe find some Fallen angels willing to get down and dirty with some Hunters. What you think?" Finn said.

Azimio smiled and clapped his hand together. "There's an ice baby in Lima? Oh fuck yeah, I'm so down. I've never seen one in person before."

Finn laughed and poured Demon's Breath over the body. The two waited until it was nothing but a pile of ashes before they went on their way, heading towards where Finn knew the Gelu lived. Once he took care of that, they could handle their other problem. So in six hours, not only would Finn and Azimio be fourteen million dollars richer, but they would have their answers, and maybe Finn could finally wrap his hands around Santana's throat. She'd been living for far too long, and monsters like her deserve to die.

* * *

Santana gasped for air and whimpered. Her veins thrummed with fire, and she nearly tore the front door of its hinges as she ripped it open to get outside.

"Santana!" Quinn shouted after her.

But she didn't stop. She couldn't. Something was wrong. She didn't know what it was, but her instinct was roaring at her to get to Rachel. There was the sound of heavy breathing, and she saw Quinn running with her out the corner of her eye. Quinn wasn't as fast as Santana, but Santana was slowed down by her wings. The feeling in her chest became worse, and she shifted without thinking. Quinn followed her lead, and the two of them were in the air within seconds, streamlining towards the other side of town.

Santana knew her mother would be fine. Her mother had been dealing with demons long before Santana was born and no low-level, ass kissing demon would warrant any concern. But Rachel needed her. She could feel the magic from the mark she'd given her straining from something, and if it broke, Rachel would have to use her powers, which would alert every hunter in the area to her existence.

When she reached Rachel's house, she recognized the old estate from when they first started to build it and found it appropriate Rachel lived there. Santana crashed through the bedroom window first, and Santana tackled the massive body hovering over Rachel. Quinn followed after and there was another sound of bodies hitting the floor.

"What the fuck!"

Santana jumped off the body when she heard the voice. "Finn!? What the hell are you doing here?" she screeched.

"My fucking job. I should've known you had something to do with this," Finn growled.

Quinn made quick work of Azimio, knocking him out before he could get a hit in, and Santana asked Finn, "How many hunters are there in Lima?"

Finn smiled with his bloodstained teeth on display, and he laughed. "Doesn't matter. You kill us, and they'll be on your ass within seconds. We have trackers that monitor our heart rate. They're probably already on their way."

Santana narrowed her eyes. "Liar. You two do not seem like the type of idiots to try and kill a Gelu without backup," she said.

"So you do know what she is?"

"Of course I do."

"Interesting."

"Can someone tell me what the hell is going on here?!" Rachel shouted.

"Finn is a hunter, and I want to know how he knew you were here," Santana said.

"Doesn't matter. I'm not telling. She's mine, Princess, and I want what's mine," he threatened, pulling a blade from his holster.

Santana swallowed a grunt when her claws extended. She would rather avoid an altercation with a hunter, as they did travel in packs. If she killed Finn and Azimio, someone would notice, and she would have another problem on her hands. But she was having a hard time controlling her movements. When Finn pulled out a gun and aimed it at Rachel, Santana hunched forward as a feral animal would, and Quinn stepped over Azimio's body with her hand outstretched towards Finn.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," she said. "Trust me when I say this is not a battle you will win."

"Oh?" He clicked off the safety and said, "Why's that? Think I'm scared of some exiled demon Princess and her trusty, dusty angel friend? Not a chance. That's fourteen million dollars sitting on that bed, and I will do anything to get it. We clear?"

"Finn, seriously," Quinn pleaded. "I don't like you. I hate you with every fiber of my being, but do not make her kill you. Please. She is not the monster you think she is, but you're threatening her life and the life of someone she likes. It's all instinct from here on out. You will lose this battle. The only reason she hasn't attacked you yet is that there is a part of her that is giving me a chance to save your life, but if I fail, best believe I will not stand in her way."

Finn looked between Quinn and Santana. He laughed and shook his head. "Not a chance, Blondie," he said.

Then he pulled the trigger.


	7. Chapter 7

**I'm human, so there might be some mistakes.**

 **I don't own anything.**

* * *

Quinn shuddered and struggled to catch her breath. The temperature of the room dropped to the point ice began to form along the windowpane. Quinn stepped back, trying to get as far away from Rachel as she could, and when the room's temperature dropped again, Quinn backed her way onto the window, making sure to avoid the ice and the glass, and deep down, she knew San would understand.

Quinn rocked backward and adjusted at the last second, the tips of her wings grazing the cement driveway. As she flew away, she thought about what she'd seen. It reminded her a lot of the scene from The Incredibles when Frozone and Mr. Incredible were in the bank. Everything happened almost exactly as it did with Finn. The bullet, encased in ice, stopped centimeters away from Rachel's forehead.

Other than the raw display of power, the terror Quinn felt stemmed from something else. Rachel's eyes reflected a deep purple, a color that no average Gelu ever displayed, and Quinn looked over her shoulder at the slowly shrinking estate.

If Rachel wasn't an Elemental, then what the hell was she?

* * *

Santana, in the back of her primal-driven mind, knew something was off with Rachel. From memory, she knew Gelu didn't fly. Or hover. They were strictly ground creatures, but as Rachel hovered over her bed with eggplant eyes, Santana had a strange feeling that settled in her stomach.

It was starting to feel like there was a reason Rachel bonded with a demon.

"I don't particularly like being threatened," Rachel murmured.

Santana's instincts started to regress, and as the red haze lifted, she realized the severity of the situation they were in. Finn's hand and the gun were frozen solid, and there was ice covering Rachel's fingers on her right side. But Finn was in pain. Santana's claws receded, as did her fangs, and she could feel her wings furling back beneath her skin. When she wasn't afraid for Rachel's life, killing Finn seemed like a good idea, but her heart started to intervene, and she couldn't let Rachel kill him.

"Did you know that ice can do just as much damage as fire? That if it's cold enough, and left in one spot long enough, it can burn the skin?"

Santana winced when the ice around Finn's hand doubled in size, and Rachel lowered herself onto the bed. The sheets iced over the moment her feet touched them, and Santana got dizzy from the lack of heat in the room.

"Rachel," she whispered. "You have to stop."

"Why? He tried to kill me. Why should I trade my life for his? That's not fair."

"Look, I am asking you, please do not kill him."

"I don't need you defending me, demon. I can fight my own battles," Finn spat.

"I am the sole reason you are alive right now, so I suggest you shut the fuck up," Santana hissed.

"No matter. I wasn't listening to you anyways," Rachel said.

The purple in Rachel's eyes grew more pronounced, and Santana's shoulders fell as the ice around Finn's hand traveled up his arm, over his neck, and covered his face. The hunter used his free hand to claw at the ice, but it was no use. With blood streaks and cracks from where Finn's nails broke through, the ice suffocated him, and his lifeless body fell to the floor.

There was silence for all of ten seconds before Azimio screamed, "I'm gonna kill you!"

Rachel barely flinched when Azimio jumped from the floor. Out of reflex, Santana's arm shot to the side as she caught him midair by the neck. It was nothing but a warning, his ability to breathe not hindered by her grip.

As he struggled, Santana cocked her head to the side and said, "Listen to me very carefully, I know you hunters have this belief I am like my father, but that is untrue. I will let you live, and I will not lose sleep over it. So do us both a favor and leave this be. Go home. Can you do that for me?"

"I guess you and Simon are more alike than we thought."

Santana tensed and narrowed her eyes. "What do you know of my brother?" she asked.

"I know everything. Just as Finn did, and just as every hunter in the world knows of him. He's famous, Princess. The baby Prince of the Underworld, renouncing his family and living it up in Los Angeles. He's our favorite person to stalk, to study because one day he will slip up and he will make a mistake. He will prove his heritage is too addicting, and we will be there to snap his neck. But if you kill me, all bets are off. Hunters stick together. Simon can easily die swimming at his million dollar mansion in Beverly Hills. Or maybe on his five a.m. run through the neighborhood. How about when he's in town ordering a Caramel Macchiato from the local Starbucks like he does every afternoon at two p.m. Who knows what will happen? But I can promise you that it will."

Santana tightened her grip and extended her nails just enough to pierce his skin. Simon was a fool, an idiot, and the biggest mistake her father ever made when it came to having a child, but he was still her brother. He was still family.

"Leave my brother out of this. Both of them," she warned.

"Or what?"

Santana dug her nails into his neck without warning and sliced through his carotid artery, and made a face when his blood dripped down her wrist. When his body went limp, Santana tossed him over to where Finn laid.

Rachel scoffed and her eyes faded back to blue. "You were going to let him live? After everything?"

"I am not my father."

"Clearly. Starting to think whoever bonded us was wrong. I wouldn't be interested in dating someone so…weak."

Santana nodded, hiding her hurt behind indifference, and said, "Maybe Quinn can do a better job while I am gone. I need to go to LA for a few days. I have a feeling my brother is as ill-prepared for hunters as a baby left alone in the woods."

"Fine. Have fun. Don't get killed trying to talk down a hunter with a fucking gun in your face."

Santana bowed and just before she leaped out the window, she turned to Rachel and said, "You have this notion about demons that I cannot change, but one thing that I share with my family is that we are brutally honest about how we feel. I can honestly say, at this moment, I wish I left you down in the cages with everyone else. Maybe my life would be a lot easier to live."

Santana did the same as Quinn and if there were scorch marks along the wood from where she'd been holding on, then so be it. She didn't know how the conversation got to that point, how it escalated, but that wasn't something she needed to worry about. Hunters were going to go after her brother, and there was only one person in town who could get her to LA with the least amount of trouble.

Detouring, Santana flew her way over to the Cohen-Chang home and pushed Rachel to the back of her mind.


	8. Chapter 8

**I decided to make the chapter's longer due to the request of a reviewer. So cheers for longer chapters.**

 **I'm human, so there might be a few mistakes.**

 **Thanks for the support**

* * *

Tina flicked lint from her shoulder and escorted Santana down to the basement. Her parents weren't home, neither was her brother and for once, she had the house to herself, free to do what she wanted. And if doing what she wanted would involve bringing two demons together under one roof, after nearly two hundred years of not communicating, then she would do it for the sole purpose that no other witch had been able to reunite two-thirds of Satan's offspring.

Plus, Santana never asked for anything, and the look in her eyes told Tina there was more to the story than Santana was letting on. Simon and Santana were close as children, but when Solomon got involved, pressuring Simon to start focusing on his royal duties, Simon renounced their father and left the Underworld without telling anyone. Not even Santana.

So Tina had a feeling that if Santana was reaching out to her brother, the person who hurt her the most, then some crazy shit was going down and she wanted front row seats. It was boring being a witch in Lima. All the other witches were old, conservative, and more interested in resetting the Time stone than anything. Tina wanted adventure, excitement, something more than learning the old ways of her people.

Tina hopped on the bar and watched Santana sit down cross-legged in the middle of the room. The original plan was for Santana to go to LA to see Simon herself, but Tina lied and said the magic she needed would require more than one witch. Operating on a schedule, Santana decided to summon her brother to Lima.

Tina wanted to warn her, tell her the truth, but she swore a vow, and if she broke that vow, she would lose her magic and her status as a witch.

Santana dropped the last layer of magic keeping her looking as human-like as possible, and Tina chewed on her bottom lip while the demon closed her eyes and summoned her brother.

It took a few moments before Tina could feel the atmosphere in the room shift, but when it did, Tina made the mistake of closing her eyes to combat the intense heat radiating from where Santana sat. The next sound was a sound Tina hadn't heard in years, and she opened her eyes in enough time to dodge the fireball tossed in her general direction. Tina slammed a palm over her mouth to stifle the hiss when the heat from the fire singed her right arm, and she fell slowly climbed to hide behind the bar. For what felt like hours, she listened to Santana and Simon go back and forth. Two demons, one with magic and the other with brute strength and experience, fighting to gain the upper hand was not the night she wanted, but it was the night she anticipated.

When silence finally reigned, and broken glass surrounded her, Tina carefully peeked over the counter and saw Simon bowing down to a bloodied and bruised Santana. Simon and Santana both seemed like they were two seconds away from collapsing, and Tina, understanding exactly why Santana came to her in the first place, scrambled to her feet to search for what Santana needed.

"Aha," she whispered, snatching the two vials of Lucifer's Kiss from her cabinet. She tip-toed her way through the mess, knowing any sudden movements would not work in her favor and placed the vials in between the two. Tina bypassed returning to her hiding spot and ran up the stairs towards the kitchen. After everything, they would need food, and she had a friend who worked in the only twenty-four-hour pizza place in Lima.

But first, a phone call.

* * *

Quinn and Maria waited on the porch for any sign of Rachel or Santana but got nothing after thirty minutes. Fearing the worse, Quinn was in the process of calling Rachel when a familiar name popped up on her screen. Knowing Tina never called unless it was an emergency, she answered quickly.

"What do you need Tina?"

 _"You need to come to my house,"_ the witch panted. _"Simon's here."_

"Her brother, Simon? That's not good," Quinn said.

 _"Right! Anyway, Santana was adamant she spoke with him tonight. She seemed upset when she showed up to the house."_

"Is Rachel with her?"

There was a pause, a muffled curse, and Tina hissed before she answered, _"Look, I don't know who this Rachel person is, but it's just Simon and Santana in my basement. So get your ass over here and help mediate this shit or I'm going to be homeless by sunrise!"_

The dial tone cut off Quinn's response, and she frowned. Santana would never leave Rachel alone after something like that.

"What? What happened?" Maria asked.

Quinn pocketed the phone and said, "Go to the old Washmore Estate. Find Rachel, and figure out what the hell went down after I left. I have to go to Tina's. We have another royal demon in town and considering the two haven't spoken in centuries, I imagine old wounds will reopen, and Lima can't handle a sibling fight."

"Need me to get there as fast as possible?"

"Fast as possible."

Quinn took off, leaving Maria running in the opposite direction towards the garage. She had bigger things to worry about other than Rachel and Santana's burgeoning or deteriorating friendship.

* * *

Maria drove way beyond the speed limit, running red lights and accelerating through stop signs. It helped it was so late that no one was out, but she wasn't paying much attention. Part of her was beginning to like Rachel, but the other part was starting to wish the Elemental had never shown up in Lima. As her thoughts towards Rachel began to spiral, she pulled up to the Washmore Estate, and she slammed her foot on the brakes.

"Oh…that…is not good," she whispered.

Hanging from the balcony facing the street, were two bodies that looked a lot like the Hudson boy and his friend. She could never remember his name, but she knew without a doubt the two were hunters in the making. Icicles hung from the columns and protruded from the porch. There was a window with ice along the edges and Maria could see purple eyes through the darkness peering down at her. Before she could get out of the car, she heard sirens in the distance, and those purple eyes quickly faded to blue. A cold wind blew into the car, and with it, she heard a voice that sounded suspiciously like Rachel's.

 _"Stay there. I will come to you,"_ it said.

Maria nodded, knowing the girl could see her, and she bounced her leg while she waited. They couldn't get caught by the police, not with the bodies on display. Yes, Maria was starting to wish Rachel never arrived in Lima.

* * *

"Why, Tana?"

Santana rolled over and stared at Simon. They were lying on the floor like they used to do as children and Santana lifted herself up onto her elbow. She finally got a good look at him. He grew out his hair, looking more and more like a reject Beck from that TV show Quinn used to watch, and though she liked the beard, she hated the nose ring. Cranberry eyes brightened, and Santana watched her brother's pupils dilate slightly. She groaned and flopped back onto the floor.

She'd forgotten about that.

"Aw. You think I look handsome and mature?" he teased.

"I hate when you do that," she sighed.

"Can't help. It's my superpower, pup."

"And I hate that nickname."

"You'll get over it."

"I brought you here because I killed a hunter," she blurted.

"Okay? And that means what?"

"He threatened to kill you as retaliation. Though you abandoned me, when someone threatens the people I love, old wounds tend to heal. You are my family."

"I'm not family," he responded. "I haven't been for centuries, Tana."

"Yes, you are. A couple of tattoos disappearing will not change that."

"You and I both know that's bullshit. A couple of tattoos sure, but all of them? You know that's a big deal," he said.

Santana felt a pang in her heart. In a three-hundred and sixty-five days, her brother will be nothing more than a rich kid living in the Hills. Denying their father for so long had consequences, and while Santana would always be a Child of Satan, no matter her status, Simon did not have the same luxury. In a year, it would make three hundred years of blatant denial of his bloodline, and their father will publically deny him in front of the entire Underworld. She was going to lose her brother, and there was nothing she could do about it.

"We can worry about that later," she said.

"Later will be too late."

"Enough, Simon. Okay? Right now, you are still my baby brother, and I need you to stay here for the time being. They know where you live and your daily routine. Stay here, at least until we get this under control," she pleaded.

"I can't leave even if I wanted too, Tana. Do you realize that this town is basically a demon trap? Once you're in, you're in."

"What are you talking about?"

"Lima's cursed to keep demons inside of the city limits. The archangels created it as a last line of defense in case demons started to rebel. It's run by the oldest coven of witches within the town, and every witch has to vow never to reveal the true purpose of the town. I'm sure your friend knows about it, but she literally can't say anything, or she'll lose her magic. She's a prisoner just as much as you are, as we are."

Santana wanted to tell him off, but Simon had no reason to lie to her. The door to the basement opened, and Santana recognized the footsteps. When the group came into sight, Santana sighed and filed away Simon's comment for later.

"Tina, Quinn, Mike, and Mercedes. Just the group of people I desire to see on a night like this."

"I'm just the delivery boy, your Highness," Mike said.

"Charming as ever, boy Chang."

"I'm here because I heard Simon was here and figured you would need help but it seems like you have everything under control. Except for the broken glass, spilled liquor, and scorch marks on the ceiling," Quinn said.

"What?!" Tina rushed forward and looked up. "Dammit Santana!" she exclaimed. "That's going to take forever to clean up and even longer to explain!"

"You made friends, good for you," Simon whispered.

"Not exactly. They are more like leeches at this point."

"You do know we can hear you, right?" Mercedes said.

"Seriously, why are you all here?" Santana asked.

Mike and Mercedes shared a look before Mike held up his hands. Mercedes huffed and said, "My brother texted me a few minutes ago. I was with Mike at the shop when Tina arrived. The police received a call that there was a disturbance at the Washmore Estate. When they got there, they found Finn and Azimio hanging from the balcony with their arms and legs burned to the bone. The hunters are in an uproar, and your name came up several times. I'm here to warn you that you're now public enemy number one. For everyone, including some of the witches."

"Some of the witches meaning Sue and Emma?" Santana guessed.

"Yup. They're out for blood. But there's more, and now I know why he told me this first. My brother and his partner were driving down the street when another car drove by them. His partner was distracted, looking for the address, but my brother saw the driver. Your mother was behind the wheel with a brunette sitting in the passenger's seat. He said there was ice along the windows and the windshield. Officially speaking, he has no recollection of anyone arriving or leaving the house before they arrived, but off the record, he wants to speak to you about what happened. He said when they pulled down the bodies, Azimio's throat was missing and Finn looked as if he'd died from hypothermia."

Santana glanced at Quinn, then at her brother, and she sat forward. "This is a long story, and it would be best if you all were sitting down," she said.

Everyone but Quinn and Simon did as told. Quinn went upstairs to call Maria so she could know where they are and bring Rachel to the house, and Santana thought about where she needed to start for them to understand why the events of the night transpired the way that they did. But she would have to wait a little longer. She wanted Rachel to hear it all too, and maybe Rachel could understand why Santana was the way she was.


	9. Chapter 9

**This chapter gets a little dark, but it gives insight into the type of person that Santana is. Also, this one is the longest I've written, so bear with me. Lastly, if anyone knows any good Pezberry, SwanQueen, or Harmony stories on this site, please send them? I've read most of the popular ones, but I haven't been able to find any more.**

 **Thanks!**

 **I don't own anything, just having some fun.**

 **I'm human, so there might be some mistakes.**

* * *

Santana twirled her ring on the floor, watching the light in the dim basement catch on the citrine stone and reflect it back on the hardwood. She saw her mother and Rachel make their way down the stairs and pretended not to notice how Rachel stayed on the opposite side of the room, determined to be as far away from Santana as possible in the small space. When their eyes met, Santana's stomach twisted into a painful knot, and she hunched over trying to loosen the tightness in her belly. While the others spoke amongst themselves, a whimper escaped from her lips despite her efforts to remain as silent as possible, and Simon placed his hand on her shoulder.

"You okay?" he whispered.

"Fine."

"Then why are your eyes purple?"

"Huh?"

"Why are your eyes purple?" he repeated.

Santana blinked and said, "My eyes are not purple."

"Because you can see them yourself, right?" Simon deadpanned.

Santana pouted to cover the grimace that wanted to break free. It felt like ice was spreading through her veins. "Don't be mean to me," she said.

"Are you sure you're okay? You just used a contraction."

"When did that become the indication that something is wrong?" she grumbled.

"So you're admitting it something's wrong?"

"Simon," she whined. "Quit it."

"Alright, alright. I'm only saying your eyes are very purple, and now your veins are turning blue. I think maybe you should put back on the ring? It's a suppressor right?"

Santana nodded weakly and slid the ring back on her finger. Immediately, the pain in her stomach subsided, and she was able to sit up without grimacing. She waited until the tightness dissipated before she looked back at her brother and he gave her a short nod.

"Now that your eyes are back to the weird, half-red, half-brown color you've been sporting since I got here, you wanna tell me what that was? Because the last time I checked, demons can't turn their eyes purple. Black, maybe, but not purple. Unless I missed that class when we were younger," Simon whispered.

"It's complicated. Plus, I don't have all the answers myself."

"Okay, that was two contractions in a row. What aren't you telling me?" Simon asked.

"You'll find out soon enough. Okay? So stop asking me," she pleaded.

Simon looked as if he wanted to keep pushing, but he surrendered, and Santana made an effort not to show her brother that his line of questioning concerned her.

Why were her eyes turning purple? Never in her life had her eyes turned purple. Ever. The conversations in the room began to fade, and Santana realized they were waiting on her. She would give them what they wanted if she knew where to start.

"How about you start at the beginning?" Rachel said.

The rest of the group looked around in confusion, as Santana hadn't said anything out loud, and it was another thing Santana filed in her growing list of things to bring up later.

"Who are you talking too?" Tina asked Rachel.

"Look," Santana said before Rachel could answer, "I owe some of you an explanation, and I am choosing to reveal certain things to everyone else. But you all know how my father fell from grace, and you know that he is probably the worst of them all. What many of you do not know, however, is that Simon was not his biggest mistake. I imagine the rumors all say Simon hurt our father the most, but the truth is, I broke our father's heart a long time ago, long before Simon came along. And in this lifetime, I have lied so much that telling the truth seems so asinine, but with everything going on I have little choice in the matter. To begin, I am older than you think. I have been around for a very long time. In all honesty, I cannot give you an exact date, as I do not remember, and neither does my mother. We picked a time that would sate the confusion, and we left it at that. No one bothered to do their research, and we have yet to find the motivation to discover the accurate timeline.

"After a while, the years started to blur together, and with my father being who he is, I was involved in a lot of the chaos the world experienced over the years. In my time, the wars all had the same beginning, middle, and end. The only difference was the body count, and I am ashamed to say I was responsible for many people who lost their lives in the respective battles. I fought in the War of 1812 - a good haircut and some magic go a long way in certain circumstances - and I participated in many wars after. Millions of men and women died by my hands, and their blood will forever stain me. I have enjoyed the same chaos that my father is known for, but during the Civil War, my feelings towards fighting and killing for glory completely changed.

"One night, I was out for a walk in Mississippi. It was stupid of me to be out alone, but back then I was cocky, confident that no mere human could sneak up on me and attack without losing their lives in the process. I had stumbled onto the main highway and came upon a group of Klansmen in the middle of hanging an African-American couple from a tree. I never had an interest in the motivations of the fighters, but the Civil War was different. I was in Mississippi to kill as many Confederates as I could because I could not stomach the brutal and sadistic treatment of the African-American people, though they were called many other things during that era. That night, I made the mistake of letting my emotions take over. I was angry, furious, and I murdered every human I got my hands on," Santana paused and ducked her head, "Including, the couple I was there to save."

She stuffed down the memories threatening to swallow her whole and continued, "When I woke up, I was covered – dripping – in blood, and the sun was barely over the horizon. I stood up, and at my feet, were the husband and wife I was out there to rescue. There were claw marks in their ankles, and it looked as if the rope had nearly sliced through their necks. Up in the tree, they were safe, but I ripped them down and fed the bloodlust that pulsated in my very soul. Once it faded, and the red haze vanished from my vision, I saw what I had done, and I ran. I ran home, to the Underworld, and I spent the next few weeks hiding from my father. He would have wanted to comfort me, tell me it was okay, but something was wrong with me. I murdered two innocent people in blind rage, and it sickened me to know I was fated to be a killer. I was a pre-destined killer with no regard for human life, and that thought disgusted me.

"Nearly a month after that night, I took a vow and swore that I would never kill for sport. I swore that I would never lose control like that again, and kill for pleasure. I kept that vow for all these years. So many years of fighting but never killing, sparing the lives of men, women, vampires, witches, angels, and other demons. And I was happy. Until tonight. I tasted blood, I killed someone, and I cannot deny that part of me rejoiced when I tore Azimio's throat from his body. However, I cannot ignore the part of me that feels angry I let my emotions get away from me once more. But, in this scenario, my emotions were out of my control the moment I stepped foot in the home, which leads me to why I killed Azimio in the first place."

Santana rubbed the gem on her finger and chewed on her bottom lip. It was quiet in Tina's basement. No one, not even Quinn, said a word. They all seemed very interested in what she had to say next, but Santana cared only about one. Rachel kept her face blank, but even with eyes of steel, Santana could read the other girl as if she were projecting her emotions for all to see.

Rachel was afraid.

Of what? Santana had no idea, but fear was radiating from her posture, and it nearly made Santana change her mind about coming clean about everything else. But the others needed to know. Because when the hunters arrived in Lima looking for blood, Santana was not going to be the only victim.

"As many of you know, I am exiled. I am no longer eligible for the throne, and I am worthless to my father. I love him, as most children still love their parents no matter the situation, but I have no interest in seeing him again. He acted in poor taste, and if presented with the opportunity to have a redo, I would do everything the same way. It would not have mattered anyway, as my father and I already had a tense relationship. I had something he pretended did not exist, and that was a heart. It was my job to protect my people, and I stood up for them, all of them. Even the ones my father deemed pathetic and a waste of time.

"So when a half-true, half-baked, bullshit prophecy made its way to the Underworld, I fought against my father's decision to have an entire race of people killed to keep the prophecy from coming true. Once the Oracle's words nestled themselves into my father's brain, an entire tribe of Elementals began to die every other week. He scoured every realm for them. Fire Elementals were left in the Tundra to freeze to death. Air Elementals were buried alive. Earth Elementals drowned in glass boxes with not a speck of dirt around. Water Elementals were starved, dumped in cages in the hottest place in the four realms, and left to wither away. But something was different about the Aquatic Clans. They gave off different vibes, different energies, and it was not until I snuck away to the cages did I realize it was not the Clan itself, but one specific member."

Santana sighed and gestured to the girl leaning against the wall. "That was when I found her, Rachel, huddled in the last cage, and within seconds, I had not only kidnapped her, I spared her life, realm-hopped until I could find somewhere safe for her to remain, and left her there with hopes that I would never see her again. I took pleasure in knowing she would live, but it would seem Fate had other plans. I thought I got away with it, I thought no one would know, but they did. Solomon was the one who saw me, and he told our father. My own brother was the one who turned me in, and he stood silently while our father banished me to wander the Shadowlands by myself.

"For those of you who have never heard of that place, imagine a barren wasteland with thousands of souls stuck in this constant state of pain and misery. I stayed there for months, slowly having my life sucked from my being when my mother summoned me. I found her here in Lima, and I have been here ever since. Long story short, Rachel and I are soul bonds. In terms you might understand, we share a soul, and it comes with problems neither of know how to handle."

"Problems like what?" Mike asked.

"Problems like sharing their magic." When the rest of the group looked at her expectantly, Tina blushed and cleared her throat, "Look, as Santana said, they're sharing a soul. It doesn't mean they're destined to be lovers, but it means their bodies and minds are connected on a visceral level. In high-intensity situations, Rachel and Santana can tap into each other's magic, and in this particular instance, that can be dangerous for a lot of different reasons. A good example of that could be whatever happened tonight. Outside of the magic, another problem could be physical. Santana and Rachel will probably start to show signs of fatigue, pain in their abdomen, and headaches because they're bodies are adjusting to being so close to one another after such a long time. Fair warning, this doesn't happen often, but a lot of soul bonds can start to lose control of their hormones. That means their tempers might flare, they might become sad for no reason, and, you know, other stuff."

"How do you know all of this?"

"Witches are taught from a young age how to deal with things like this. Some people aren't capable of having a soul mate or a soul bond. They panic when things start to happen, and try to do things that could do more harm than good, which is where we come in. We have certain herbs that can calm nerves and fix broken bonds. Most people don't know they have a soul mate until it's too late."

"Then how did Santana know?" Mercedes asked. "And what does this have to do with Finn and Azimio?"

"Because I'm sure Santana learned about soulbonds at a young age?" Tina guessed.

Santana and Simon shared a look before Simon said, "Not quite. We never learned any of what you just said. Dad told Tana, me, and Sol that having soul bonds were dangerous. Our father was adamantly against them. He told us that if we weren't careful, our bonds would siphon our magic, and slowly start to suck the life force from our body. The bond taps into our magic, and for the three of us, our magic is our biggest strength."

"It also hurts," Santana said, picking up where her brother left off. She rubbed the back of her neck and thought about the pain in her stomach from earlier. "It makes things very difficult. Demons naturally feel things stronger than most, and when combined with someone else's emotions, things tend to become exaggerated. For us, we have an embedded urge to protect and be around our soul bond regardless of the circumstance. Rachel and I were together long enough for the bond to settle, but not long enough for the bond to develop. When she showed up in Lima, I imagine everything started to happen at one time. But to answer your question Mercedes, in the instance of tonight, when Finn and Azimio somehow discovered she was in town and tried to kill her, my instincts kicked in. I can admit I was not in complete control. Finn and Azimio died because of their stupidity," she said.

"You killed them both?"

"Not-

"I killed Finn," Rachel said.

"You killed Finn?" Mercedes repeated. "And for clarification, what exactly are you? You're an Elemental right?"

"Had you asked me that two days ago, I would have said yes." Rachel sighed, "But after today, I don't really know."


	10. Chapter 10

**Not overly thrilled with this chapter, but I don't own anything, just having fun.**

 **I'm human, so there might be some mistakes.**

* * *

"What do you mean you don't know?"

Rachel straightened against the wall and folded her arms against her chest. "With all due respect, I would rather have this conversation with Santana before I have it with any of you."

"Cute," Mercedes snapped, "but with all due respect, I would rather you not act like we don't all deserve to know what the hell is going on. How did Finn and Azimio know you were even in Lima? How did they get to you so easily? How did you manage to rope Santana into all of this drama? She's a demon, one of the worst, but she's my friend, and I refuse to let you waltz in here and cause her an early death."

Rachel stayed silent. She understood the anger, but it was misplaced and shrouded the fear Rachel could see written all over the other girl's face. Her silence, however, was mistaken for something else and was nothing but fire to feed the girl's flames.

"If you weren't Santana's, whatever the hell you are, I would gladly drag your ass to the town line and leave you there for the Hunters, let them have their fun and be on my merry little way."

Had this Mercedes character been paying attention, and if she were really Santana's friend, she would've seen the danger coming from a mile away. She would've apologized, regardless of the truth she spoke, and she would've made an effort to make up for her mistake. But she wasn't, she isn't, and she didn't. Rachel saw Quinn inch away from the wall towards Maria and how the witch of the group backed towards the Elemental doing a poor job of pretending to be human.

"Hey, Cedes?" Tina murmured. "Maybe we shouldn't be so quick to place this all on Rachel? We still don't have all the details. It's unfair."

"Bullshit! Am I the only one saying what needs to be said? Y'all are standing around, listening to this sad and depressing tale, but have none of you understood that we have HUNTERS coming here? All because of this," she gestured widely and hesitated before she said, "Elemental wannabe! She started all of this, how come we have to be involved in it?"

"No one said you had to be involved."

Santana frowned and held up her finger to forestall any response. She stood up from the couch, tense and the brown slowly faded from her pupils. Rachel twitched, scratching at the back of her neck, and bit down on her cheek to keep from crying out as what felt like fire burned through her core. Maria reached over subtly, and with a small nod, Rachel assured her she was okay. When Santana moved closer, Rachel's knees buckled, and Maria and Quinn wrapped their arms around Rachel to keep her standing upright. No one else noticed, no one but the Elemental on the opposite side of the room. Rachel stared at him, and he cocked his head. The two of them shared something, something only they had in common, and she decided that outside of Santana, there was someone else she needed to catch in private.

"I appreciate your support, Mercedes, I genuinely do. I respect the fact you have my back, but despite my best efforts, I cannot sit here and listen to you berate my-," she paused and cleared her throat, "Rachel over something that was bound to happen eventually. Finn and Azimio were waiting for the right time to come after me. These events merely sped up the timeline. Now, if you want to help, then by all means, help, but if you disrespect Rachel to her face or behind her back again, I will treat you like I treated Finn and Azimio, and no amount of years spent being in each other's lives will change the outcome. Am I clear?"

Rachel leaned heavily into Maria. She had no idea what the hell was going on, but it was beginning to hurt, and she was starting to get dizzy.

"Are you serious? You're going to get yourself killed!" Mercedes shouted. "You don't have your magic, Santana, or have you forgotten that? All you have are those magic supplements Tina gives you now and then."

Rachel cocked an eyebrow. Even in her dizziness, she recognized the significance behind that statement. Why did Santana need magic supplements?

"Yes, thank you, Mercedes," Santana growled. "I am reminded of that little detail every time I get up in the morning and every time I lie my head down to go to sleep. My feelings on the matter have not changed. So either shut up, go home, and mind your business like you have been doing for the past several years, or quit complaining and help figure out a way to keep both myself and Rachel alive. Deal?"

Mercedes stared at Santana, and Santana stared back. Rachel knew she should feel guilty for causing the argument, as she was responsible indirectly, but the truth was, the fewer people around Santana, the more comfortable she felt. Though, Rachel had no idea why that was even a thought in her mind.

"After ten years, you're picking some chick you barely know, who could or could not be this soul mate…bond…whatever, over someone who's had your back in everything?"

"The ultimatum is not coming from my end," Santana responded coolly.

Mercedes flinched, and as she turned to leave, she glared at Rachel with so much hate that Rachel was almost, almost, concerned. But common sense kicked in, and her concern shifted to what all the girl would do to prove her point.

"Fine." Mercedes bowed her head and added, "I won't stand here and help you plan your funeral, San. I'm out."

She sighed and walked up the stairs, and the witch hesitated before she ran after her.

"Tina?" Santana called out.

Rachel was glad to note no one called Santana out on the desperation dripping from her tone.

The witch stopped, smiled, and said, "I'm only walking her out, San. It's late. I'll be back."

Santana deflated in relief, and Rachel wondered what the story was between the two of them. In all honesty, she was starting to wonder about the relationship between all of them.

"Rachel, you're melting," Quinn hissed.

"I'm…what?" Rachel muttered.

"It's Santana's fault," Mike said.

"Not you too," Santana scowled.

"No, you're radiating a ton of heat right now. Rachel's the equivalent of an ice cube in the middle of summer."

"That's not the only reason," Tina interrupted, hopping down the last couple of steps. She smiled sheepishly when the group jumped at her arrival, and she added, "Sorry, I thought you guys heard me coming down, but in all seriousness, the two of them can't escape this until they do the bonding ceremony. The bond is there, but it's unstable, and the two of them will have much worse reactions if they don't do it soon. For example, Santana might feel colder than normal, and-"

"Aha! So that's what was going on with you earlier!"

Everyone glanced at Simon and Santana shot him a dirty look before she grudgingly confessed that before the rest of the group got there, it'd felt like there was ice in her veins.

"Actual ice?" Mike asked.

"Her veins were turning blue and everything," Simon said.

"Okay, moving on," Santana cut in. "Can we just raincheck everything until later on? We have school, and it's already going on three in the morning."

"Is that your way of dodging the topic?" Maria asked.

"It's my way of making sure people get enough sleep," Santana ground out.

"How kind of you," Quinn drawled.

"Santana's right," Mike said. "Maybe we can catch up tomorrow afternoon? Catch an early dinner?"

"Fine, but only because Santana gets cranky when she doesn't get enough sleep," Quinn grumbled.

No one missed the sneer on Santana's face, nor the smothered laugh on Rachel's, and they agreed to meet up after school. Mike stayed over Tina's, while Quinn and Rachel came home with Santana, Simon, and her mother. Maria didn't say much to Simon, only that he looked too much like their father and she would prefer it if he did something different with his hair. Simon cocked an eyebrow but said nothing.

Santana and Rachel avoided speaking to one another, but with Quinn and Maria holding up Rachel, and Simon holding up Santana, it was apparent the conversation needed to happen sooner rather than later. When they got back to the house, two cops were waiting on Maria's doorstep. Simon narrowed his eyes and whispered something in Santana's ear.

"Are you sure?" Santana whispered back.

"I'm positive," he hissed.

The group stopped, and the cops stepped forward with apologetic but wary grins on their faces.

"Hey, Maria," one cop greeted.

Maria frowned and handed Rachel to Quinn completely. "Hey, Jimmy. What's going on?" she asked.

"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid you're going to have to come with us. I know it's late but..." the cop trailed off, and Santana thought about what Simon said. Her brother's sense of smell was stronger than hers, and if he told her the officers smelled like Holy Oil, then she believed him. And the only people who used that type of oil in Lima were the-

"I'm so sorry, Maria, but I have to put you under arrest now," Jimmy said.-

"Wait, what?! Why?" Santana protested.

The cops ignored Santana, and they placed zip ties on her mother's wrists as they arrested her for the murder of Ethan and Susan Pierce. Santana argued with them, trying to get more information, but the cops walked Maria to the car without another word. Simon grabbed hold of his sister, keeping her in place, and Santana tried to fight his grip, but as the police got in their cruiser, Simon used a bit of magic to hold her in his arms. The car backed down the driveway, and Santana was angry enough that the grass under her feet started to scorch and turn an ugly shade of gray. When it seemed like she was going to take off after the car, Quinn elbowed the side of Santana's head.

Simon winced, knowing when his sister came to they were all going to be in the line of fire, both literally and figuratively, but he hefted her over his shoulder and carried Santana inside of the house. As they walked, Simon glanced to the side, studying the girl bonded to his sister, and he pretended not to notice the way she rubbed the side of her head.

He frowned. Maybe that bonding ceremony wasn't too bad of an idea.


	11. Chapter 11

Quinn showed off her black eye and split lip with as much pride as she could muster. Santana wasn't too thrilled with waking up in bed, in her pajamas, while her mother rotted away in some cell over a murder she didn't commit. Santana took her anger out on anyone who wasn't Rachel, and several of the Cheerios went home crying before the bell for first period rang. It wasn't like Simon was in any better shape. Santana woke him up with a fork in his shoulder, which she broke the handle off of, and then sent him to the police station to figure out what the hell was going on with her mother.

With the fork still in his shoulder, half-broken, and practically melted into his skin.

So, yes, Quinn was very much so proud that she walked away from everything with a black eye and a split lip.

She tensed when Santana walked up behind her, and the demon tapped Quinn's lip with the gentleness of an elephant in a glass menagerie.

"Fuck off," Quinn groaned, smacking away her hands. "I apologized already."

"Does not mean I have accepted it. My mother spent the night in jail, for a murder she more than likely did not commit, and you and Simon let Archangels take her away."

"There aren't any Archangels in Lima," Quinn frowned. "They're not allowed to be-

"Away from the Heavens longer than a few hours? Yes, I know, but Simon is never wrong about certain things. He could smell the Oil on them when we got there. My mother needs to be unharmed, or this busted lip will seem like child's play."

Quinn knew Santana would never kill her, they were too close for that, but that didn't mean Santana wouldn't make Quinn feel as much pain as possible.

"Noted," Quinn sighed.

"Great. Where is Rachel?"

Quinn gestured down the hall and said, "She's been with Mike all morning."

"Mike? Why Mike?"

Quinn glanced at Santana, confused, and she said, "They're lab partners in Chemistry remember? They're probably talking about the project. You know, the same damn project you refuse to help me with?"

"The project is a six-page research paper on an element of our choice. Ridiculous to write that much on one element but it is not the weirdest assignment I have seen at this school."

"I'm sure there's a point in there somewhere," Quinn said dryly.

"The project is due in five weeks. I have known Mike for the last five years, and never has he started a project early. I doubt that has changed in a few hours."

Had it not been for the fact Quinn knew Santana, knew her every mood, she would've missed the slight tightening of her eyes and the way her nose wrinkled. She was on a short leash, but Quinn would never pass up an opportunity to tease her favorite demon.

"Why don't you go over there and see for yourself?"

Without missing a beat, Santana flicked Quinn on the lip and walked away while Quinn hissed in pain. The pain was worth it, but she couldn't wait until Maria was back home. She ran her tongue over her lip to catch the blood and followed behind Santana, hoping Mike and Rachel were genuinely talking about the Chemistry project.

* * *

Rachel leaned against the locker and flicked a piece of lint off her hoodie. Well, it was Santana's hoodie, but same difference. Mike adjusted the bag over his shoulder and rubbed the back of his neck.

"How'd you know?" Mike asked.

"I just did. How did you get here?"

"The wind blew me here."

"If I didn't know your people, I would slap you for such an idiotic comment," Rachel scowled.

"No, you wouldn't."

Rachel hummed. "Fine, but you still didn't answer my question," she said.

"I was serious. One day, I woke up, and the wind spoke to me. It quite literally blew me in this direction, and it stopped once I got here. I haven't heard, felt, or seen the wind since, so I assumed this is where I needed to stay. At least for now."

"Where were you before?"

Mike frowned and looked at her, or rather, through her. He seemed like he was a million miles away and Rachel thought the Zephyr sounded haunted as he said, "Chizhou City, Mount Jiuhua. It was the safest place I could think of, but…I needed to move."

Rachel wanted to push, but she recognized a dead end when she saw one. Her stomach lurched, a feeling she'd been having ever since she got up that morning, and she glanced over her shoulder to see Santana and Quinn making their way towards them.

"When do you plan on telling her?"

"Tell her what?" Rachel said distractedly.

"That you love her."

Rachel didn't bother asking how he knew that. Zephyrs were in tune with not only the air around them but with people as well. Rachel could stand there and lie straight to his face, but it wouldn't make a difference, he would know the truth. Instead, she lowered her voice and said, "I don't plan on telling her anything other than what she needs to know. And she doesn't need to know that."

"How come? That's a pretty big thing. Don't you think she deserves to hear it from you?"

Rachel looked Mike in the eyes and said, "Unless you can tell me here and now that she feels the same way, I won't put myself in that position. I fell in love with Santana the moment she rescued me from those caverns. When she left, I spent three weeks crying my eyes out for reasons I couldn't explain. Now that I'm around her again, I'm not going to ruin it with a feeling I can't understand myself."

"Is that why you two are acting so weird around each other?"

"What do you mean?"

"You two aren't talking to one another. It was obvious last night. And she's hurting, and she only feels that hurt when you're around."

Rachel sighed and played with a loose strand of hair. "I said something I shouldn't have, and I will apologize for how I said it, but I won't apologize for what I said. It was hurtful, sure, but I wasn't wrong. We're going to need the version of Santana that doesn't have a bleeding heart, and if she doesn't come to terms with what she did in the past, then the Hunters will be the least of our worries."

Mike stepped closer and muttered, "What makes you say that?"

"Because Finn and Azimio broke through Santana's magic in a few minutes. That magic has kept me safe for nearly a hundred years and all of a sudden, two low-level hunters destroy a barrier that's protected me from some of the best?" Rachel scoffed and shook her head. "Not a chance. Either Santana's magic failed me at the worst possible moment, or-

"Or they had supernatural help," Mike finished.

Rachel turned around again, saw that Santana was much closer than before, and she changed the subject, "I want to do Lithium."

Mike snorted and said, "Smooth."

"Could you have come up with anything better?"

"Better than what? What are you guys talking about?" Santana interrupted.

"How to kill a demon without leaving behind a blood trail," Mike deadpanned.

"Cute."

"I thought so. Why do you care? Jealous?"

"Watch it, Aang," Santana growled.

"Wait, you know what he is?" Rachel asked.

"Of course I know. Why do you think I keep Mike around? For fun?"

"Love you too," Mike drawled.

"Not my type."

"And what is your type?"

"Short, brunette, and the bane of my existence."

Rachel huffed and said to Mike, "Whatever. I'll see you later. If I don't leave now, I'll be late for English."

"I'll walk you," Quinn said, making her presence known. "It's not like we don't have the class together anyway."

"Do I have a choice?" Rachel said wryly.

"Not really," Santana paused and added, "Katara."

"Interesting. If I'm Aang and Rachel's Katara, would that make you Zuko?" Mike asked.

Quinn hummed and said, "He has a point."

Santana shrugged and glanced at Rachel before she said, "I think we can all agree Zuko was a better fit for Katara anyway."

* * *

Simon opened the door for Maria and slammed it shut. He had about thirty seconds before the compulsion wore off on the cops, and he didn't want to risk screwing up the one thing Santana asked him to do.

"I need to see San," Maria said.

Simon nodded, already planning on driving by the school, but when he saw the rash growing on Maria's arm when she lifted her hand, he cursed under his breath. Simon rolled down his window, stuck his head out and took a deep breath, and then pulled out of the lot. He drove past the street leading towards the high school and headed to the house. His lungs were starting to burn, and his eyes were watering, and Simon knew it had nothing to do with his lack of breathing.

When it seemed like he was about to pass out, Simon managed to get close enough to the house he could put the car in park and jump out. He stumbled to get away from Maria and inhaled when he was confident the air wasn't tainted.

"Simon?" Maria called out. "What's wrong?"

"Stay there!" he shouted. He coughed. "You need to stay by the car, okay? Did either officer touch you before I got there this morning?"

"Not really. One touched my hand after giving me coffee. Why?"

Simon grabbed the phone out of his pocket and scrolled through the numbers until he found Quinn's. Santana gave it to him that morning until he could get his own. He shot off a quick text to Quinn, telling her what was going on, and then he turned back to find Maria crossing the driveway towards him.

"NO!" he screamed. "Seriously, stay over there."

"But…why? What's going on? I wanna see San."

"You have Holy Oil in and on you," he said. "That's why you have the rash."

"What?!" Maria screeched. She held out her arms and started tearing at her clothes.

"Stop! You need to calm down, or it'll spread through your system faster."

"But-

"I know. I know. But you have to calm down. I can't help if I'm dead too."

Maria's eyes widened, and she backed away towards the car. Simon felt the phone vibrate, saw that Quinn had responded, and was glad that she was sending the witch. He was going to need a lot of help in making sure the Holy Oil gets out of Maria before Santana loses her patience and decides to handle things herself.

"Okay," he called out. "You're going to get sick, alright? You won't die, there's too much human blood inside of you, but you will be very sick. I have someone on the way because I can't be around you for too long, alright?"

"Don't tell San," she pleaded.

"You and I both know that's not gonna happen. If it weren't for Quinn, Santana would be on her way to the police station ready to burn it down with everyone inside."

* * *

Quinn saw the message and showed the phone to Rachel.

"I don't understand," Rachel whispered.

"Oh, right, you wouldn't know what that means. Anyway, Simon thinks some of those cops at the station poisoned Maria with Holy Oil. Unfortunately, it's fatal to any demon, no matter where they were born nor who their parents are, and it does damage to humans as well. Simon needs help getting the Oil out because he can't be around her for too long."

"Alright. What do you need me to do?"

"Keep Santana distracted until the end of the day?" Quinn suggested.

"You're joking," Rachel deadpanned. "Her mother has poison in her system, and you want me to lie and keep her in the dark? How in the world do you plan on me doing that?"

Quinn smiled sheepishly. "Maybe you can figure it out? Don't you two have something you need to talk about?" she asked.

"I will not start that conversation as a distraction, but I'll figure it out. You owe me though."

"Fine. I'm going to grab Tina because I'll need help. If Santana asks, just come up with something."

"You went to the bathroom, and I haven't seen you since."

"Thanks!" Quinn whispered before jumping up and going to the bathroom.

Quinn ran down the hall, trying to remember which class Tina was in, and she hoped the two of them could get out of the school without Santana knowing.


	12. Chapter 12

**Shorter chapter, but I'm on wedding duty for the next few days, and I've had little time to write.**

 **Thanks again to all the readers. I appreciate all of you.**

 **I don't own any of this, just having fun. I'm also human, so there might be some mistakes.**

* * *

Rachel left Mike standing in the hall, and his parting words to her were 'Don't take it to heart.' Rachel understood why he said that, but it was worthless information. Rachel had plans on seeing if Santana wanted to eat lunch together, away from everyone and have some time alone, but Rachel walked out of her math class and ran smack dab into one of the cheerleaders. They were huddled together, giggling, and Rachel looked over their shoulder to see one of their friends hanging off Santana's right arm. It was obvious Santana wasn't interested, but the fact she humored the girl left a bad taste in Rachel's mouth. She waited for Santana to look up, and when their eyes met, Rachel made sure Santana knew how she felt. The demon winced, tried to move away, but by the time that happened, Rachel was halfway down the hall in the opposite direction, her lunch plans forgotten.

With her mood shot and her plans ruined, Rachel made her way through the crowds and ducked into the abandoned choir room. No one, according to the janitor, had used the room in years, but there was still a working piano tucked away inside. Rachel hadn't played in years. Good memories came from playing, from singing, but with the good came the bad, and she was afraid that once she went down that path, she wouldn't be able to stop.

When she was younger, she was always singing, always humming to herself, but after that first night in Seattle, Rachel gathered the thousands of songs floating in her mind and pushed them to the back. She hadn't felt the type of emotions that motivated her to sing.

At least not until she saw Santana in the hall.

Seeing that, silly as it sounds, made her realize she was foolish to think Santana cared about her. Ever since she got to Lima, preferring to stay in the house and practically living in her bathtub, Rachel wanted nothing to do with anyone in the town. She had no interest in going out to see who was there, what they did for fun, or to get a feel for the people, but she figured she needed to do something other than sitting on the floor and watch re-runs of Golden Girls. Once Rachel enrolled, the first day of school was more boring than sitting at home. It didn't help that she'd gotten lost on her way to P.E. All she wanted was the gym, but with too much noise and too many people around her, she was drowning in chaos. Then she heard her name, whispered from the other side of the hall, louder than every person screaming around her.

Santana made everything better, then a couple of hunters screwed that up, and Rachel was on the verge of getting everyone killed with the target she helped place on their back.

Either way, Rachel was in a crappy enough mood that there was only one song she wanted – needed – to sing. The janitor told her the piano was in the choir room but had it not been for some kid named Kurt, Rachel would've never found it. When Rachel discovered the janitor was right, she sighed and closed the door behind her. Empty it was, but her heart ached for the Chrome Bösendorfer in the middle of the room. Bösendorfer pianos were exclusive, and for the school to have one in its possession, but not use it, angered her immensely.

"Staub auf einem Grand? Wie unverzeihlich," she murmured, her German rusty from lack of use.

Rachel searched the room, looking for a towel or something, and aha'd when she found some old robes in the corner. Picking one with the least amount of mold, Rachel grabbed it and wiped the piano down, removing the dust the best she could. She continued to swipe at the keys until they were clean, cringing at the gunk caked on the sleeve of the robe, but the excitement at playing again overshadowed her disgust. Rachel tossed the clothing to the side and plopped down on the bench. It was bigger than average, and she had to sit on the edge to be able to reach the keys entirely. She placed her fingers on the ivory and played a song threatening to escape one way or another.

The opening chords to Leonard Cohen's _Hallelujah_ filled the room, and she played the same harmony over and over again, letting the sound echo in the space. Not to mention she was shocked the piano was still in tune.

 _I've heard there was_

 _A secret chord_

 _That David played_

 _And it pleased the Lord_

 _But you don't really care for music_

 _Do ya?_

Rachel closed her eyes, and instead of being in a dusty, neglected choir room, she was back at home with her mother and father standing behind her. They were humming along, dancing, and her tears splashed against the ivory as she sang.

 _Well it goes like this_

 _The fourth, the fifth_

 _The minor fall_

 _The major lift_

 _The baffled king composing Hallelujah_

Rachel bowed her head, completely unaware of the door opening and closing, and continued to sing.

 _Well, your faith was strong, but you needed proof_

 _You saw her bathing on the roof_

 _Her beauty in the moonlight overthrew ya_

 _She tied you to the kitchen chair_

 _She broke your throne and she cut your hair_

 _And from your lips, she drew the Hallelujah_

Rachel thought about the first time she heard the song when her mother was pregnant with Rachel's brother, and then she thought about the last time she heard it when her father played it for her mother after her brother died in the womb. Her fingers slipped, and she took a deep breath before starting the next verse.

 _Well, baby, I've been here before_

 _I've seen this room, and I've walked this floor_

 _I used to live alone before I knew you_

 _And I've seen your flag on the marble arch_

 _And love is not a victory march_

 _It's a cold, and it's a broken Halle-_

Rachel's voice cracked, and she stopped playing. A sob escaped, and she didn't register the arms wrapping around her or the warm body coming up behind her. Soft hands curled on top of hers, and the song once again filled the room with a voice that wasn't hers joining the keys.

 _Well maybe there's_

 _A God above_

 _But all I've ever_

 _Learned from love_

 _Was how to shoot somebody_

 _Who outdrew ya_

Rachel didn't bother wiping her tears or slowing her crying. She just sat there and listened to Santana sing.

 _And it's not a cry_

 _That you hear at night_

 _It's not somebody_

 _Who's seen the light_

 _It's a cold, and it's a broken Hallelujah_

The last note rang in the room, and for a moment, neither one said anything. Santana's lips pressed against Rachel's cheek and it left Rachel's heart beating wildly in her chest.

"I'm sorry," Santana whispered.

"You haven't done anything wrong," Rachel said.

"Maybe." Santana moved back, and Rachel immediately missed the warmth. She wanted to call her back, ask to play another song, but when she turned around, all she got was the back of Santana's head and the door closing on whatever words Rachel wanted to say. Rachel wanted to be angry, to be upset, but her cheek still burned from the kiss Santana left behind.

Rachel grinned to herself.

Progress.

* * *

Tina held back Maria's hair while Quinn continued to wash Maria's clothes in the tub. Simon was downstairs, probably pacing the living room floor while he waited for an update.

"Whoever did this underestimated how much demon blood she had in her system," Tina sighed. "She's going to throw up an organ if she keeps this up."

"Wait, Maria has demon blood?" Quinn asked.

"Yeah? Why wouldn't she?"

"You tell me."

Tina frowned. "Um, Quinn? What all do you know about demon/human births?"

"At this point, nothing."

Tina nodded and grabbed another syringe off the counter. She injected more of Lucifer's Kiss into Maria and rubbed the woman's back.

"Santana couldn't be born in a human host, least not one with solely human blood. Maria had to ingest a specific amount of demon blood for her body to alter itself in a way that having a demon child wouldn't do more harm than expected. But because of who she was procreating with, Maria ingested more than average. I'm assuming whoever poisoned her didn't account for that, and the combination of the blood and the poison makes this equivalent to a severe case of food poisoning."

"So, hypothetically speaking, if whoever did this gave her a different dosage?"

Tina winced. "Had they given her anymore, Maria would have died before she made it out of that precinct."

Their conversation was interrupted with Maria passing out against the toilet, her face turning a sickly shade of white, and Tina maneuvered the body until she was lying on the bathroom floor. Quinn blew a piece of hair out of her face, and the two shared a long look before they came to the same conclusion.

"Fuck." Quinn dropped the wet clothes. "We're going to have to tell Tana, aren't we?"

"Yep. And you better pray Santana's concern for her mother will overshadow the fury directed towards us."


	13. Chapter 13

**I don't own this, just having some fun. I'm also very human, so there might be some mistakes.**

 **Also, for my girlfriend, I love you very much. You're the best part of my day, the greatest part of my night, and I look forward to spending our lives together.**

 **Alright, enough of the mushiness, on to the story**.

* * *

Simon hunched over, grimacing at his broken ribs, but before he could catch his breath, Quinn's body crashed into his, sending them both to the ground. Mini-fires raged along the backyard, licking at the tree stumps, and the grass lost its natural green color having turned into various shades of gray and black.

"Feel like telling me what the hell is going on?'" Quinn groaned.

Simon rose on his elbows. " I have," he wheezed, "no idea."

"Fantastic. Wanna go figure out what the hell is wrong before she fucks around and kill us both?" she snapped.

Simon huffed in response, taking a deep breath to test his ribs, and when he was sure he could move without too much pain, he jumped up and ran ahead to keep Santana from causing any more damage. He meant what he said. He had no clue what happened. One moment, Santana was figuring out what to do about her mother, and the next, she was shooting fireballs at any and everyone's head.

Grunting, Simon slid on his knees to dodge the claws aimed for his head, and he came to a stop behind his sister. Santana was in full demon mode, uncaring about who she was hurting, and it was going to take another demon to stop her. The only downside was that Simon was no match for his sister, he never was.

"San! Stop!" he screamed.

His sister turned around, and Simon held up his hands. He wanted to show he was no threat, but it was no use. Within seconds, Simon was hovering off the ground with a vice-like grip crushing his windpipe. Simon grabbed at the hands, clawing at them, and whatever he planned to say died on his lips.

When her grip grew tighter, Simon frowned. The same purple from the night before shined in her gaze, and when he looked down, the citrine ring on her finger was almost the color of ginger. His heart dropped, and Simon stopped fighting the hand around his neck. The ring was a mood ring essentially, and if it was that dark, then Santana's temper was the least of their worries. If Simon were honest, it was never the magic his sister had that scared him.

They all had their strengths and weaknesses, but Santana's weakness was her magic. She wasn't the strongest, but she was the most powerful, and Simon explicitly remembered the time Solomon challenged Santana to a fight. She wore him out in four minutes and took him down with a well-placed right hook. Solomon never fought her again, and it became an unspoken agreement between him and Solomon that the scariest thing about their sister was the fire that pumped through her veins. It powered her very core, and, with that said, if pushed in the right direction, her orange flames could become Greek fire in the blink of an eye.

When spots appeared in his eye, something changed in his sister, and she dropped down to her knees and cried out in pain. Simon fell to the ground with her, and he rolled over.

He gasped for air, and he explicitly heard his sister say Rachel's name over and over under her breath. Eventually, he got enough oxygen in his system to ask what was wrong.

"R-Rachel," she stammered. "W-where is R-Rachel?"

"I," Simon paused, "don't know," he said.

"Something's wrong," Santana whined. "I can't feel her anymore."

She started to tug at her hair, almost pulling it from the roots, and Simon's brotherly instincts kicked in. It was still hard for him to breathe, but the girl in front of him was a far cry from the terror that was on the warpath only a few minutes prior, and she was still his big sister.

"Hey, hey," he soothed. "Tell me what's wrong."

Santana whimpered and poked her chest, right where her heart would be.

"She's gone. She's gone."

"Okay, we'll find her. Alright?" Simon waved over Quinn for guidance, and he added, "I need you to calm down for me though."

"I can't! It hurts," she whined.

Quinn limped over and dropped down, "What's going on? What's wrong?" she asked.

"When was the last time you heard from or saw Rachel?" Simon said quickly, wrapping his arms around Santana.

His sister was falling apart in his arms. He'd never seen her cry beyond a few tears, but she was hysterical, and he was running out of things to say and do.

"During my free period, she was on her way to P.E.," Quinn said.

"Did she seem different?"

"She was in a rush, but not different. I ran into Mike after and he said Rachel liked getting there before the Cheerios took all the good stalls."

"Are you sure that was the last time you saw her?"

Quinn nodded, and Santana started shaking in his arms. Black liquid dripped from her nose, and she began to whisper in Latin.

"Is..that Latin?" Quinn asked.

"Yes, but the weird thing is," Simon paused and looked at Quinn, "she doesn't speak Latin."

Before Quinn could respond, Mike appeared out of thin air.

Literally.

His eyes were bright, almost translucent, and Simon's worst fears were confirmed when Mike said, "I think Mercedes made good on her threat with Rachel."

Santana stopped shaking in his arms, and Simon thought nothing of it until a burning sensation spread through his body. He tensed, sending a quick prayer that what he felt was only his imagination, but the tell-tale blue sparks dancing across her fingertips told him all he needed to know. Simon slowly released his grip, and crawled back.

"You two stay there," he whispered.

The blue sparks became flames, and Simon saw Quinn rear back from the sudden heat.

"I need you both to listen to me," Simon said softly.

"Why? What is that?" Quinn hissed.

"When I say now," Simon said, ignoring her question, "you run to the house, understood?"

"But-

"Do you understand?" he snapped.

Quinn gave him a short nod, and Simon went back to watching his sister. He and Solomon were the unlucky few to know the real reason their father kept Santana out of public eye for the first few years. A baby with the ability to control any aspect of fire, with no experience in keeping it under wraps, was something their father couldn't- wouldn't - exploit. Santana rarely got angry enough to tap into the depths of her powers, but Simon imagined his sister was no longer in control of her actions.

When the flames started to cover her entire body, Simon knew they had a few seconds before those black eyes opened and narrowed on targets that weren't the cause of her anger. He slowly crawled to his feet, and when her fists clenched, Simon jumped up from the ground.

"Now!" he shouted, sprinting towards the house.

Quinn and Mike were right behind him, and they'd only made it to the back door when Santana's roar shook the earth around them.

* * *

 _Rachel barely made it to the locker room in time. She snagged the last stall and leaned against the door in relief. Rachel hated changing in front of the other girls. They always asked about her scars and tattoos, questions she had no interest in answering, and she'd just gotten her shirt and pants off when someone banged on the door. When they kept pounding, Rachel swung open the door dressed in only her sports bra and shorts. Unfortunately, Rachel was a second too late to stop the metal bat before it connected with her head, and she slumped to the floor._

 _The next time she opened her eyes, she was in the middle of a street with handcuffs on her wrists and a massive headache. She licked her lips, dry and cracked, and she groaned. It was like being back in the cages, back in the Underworld, and Rachel belatedly realized she was near the town line._

 _"You shouldn't have come here."_

 _Rachel coughed and glanced up with one eye at the person standing in front of her._

 _"Mercedes?" she whispered._

 _"Santana doesn't need you adding more drama to her life. She was fine before you showed up, and now you've got Hunters threatening to rip apart this town. They're out for blood, and they want someone to blame. I'm giving them someone to blame. I would've minded my business, but I care about Santana. Once this is taken care of, you'll be nothing more than a memory."_

 _Rachel shook her head to clear the dizziness, but there was too much heat. Her core tightened in her stomach, and it felt like someone had it in their hands. It became uncomfortable, almost painful, but then the tightness was gone. Feeling like a puppet without strings, Rachel fell backward, and her head bounced against the cement. She blinked a few times, trying to stay awake, but it was useless. Rachel's eyes fluttered shut on the sun bearing down on her face_.

* * *

Burt prided himself on staying true to his values. He supported his family, protected them, and understood that there were going to be hard days along with the good. But the one thing he never planned for was the death of his stepson. Finn was a good kid, healthy, and had the same sadistic streak all Hunters had, but Burt could admit Finn was often impulsive and quick-tempered. He knew it would be Finn's downfall, but Burt never anticipated it happening before Finn graduated high school. When the Jones's kid, Royce, turned down a side street that led to the edge of town, Burt's curiosity got the best of him.

"Where are you taking me?"

"To the town line. Cedes and I want to talk to you, maybe come to some sort of deal."

Burt snorted, tapping his knuckles against the tinted windows, and said, "A deal? What could you two possibly have to offer me?"

"How about a Gelu? There's one in town, and Cedes has her waiting for us."

Burt whistled under his breath. "Well, I admit my interest is peaked. What's the deal?" he said.

"In exchange for the Gelu, you leave Santana out of this."

Burt laughed, and said, "You're almost as funny as Kurt, but not a chance kid. If you think I'm going to exchange the Princess for a Gelu, no matter the price, then you're out of your mind."

"Fine. If that's the case, then there's no need in us finishing this ride. I can turn around and have you back home in a few minutes," Royce said, flicking on his turn signal to make the U-turn.

Burt chuckled, reaching into his waistband, and pulled out his gun. He aimed the Beretta M9 at the rookie cop. "Oh no, see, this is what's going to happen. You're going to keep driving to this Gelu, you're going to introduce me to her, and you're going to do what we're paying you to do. I'm then going to take the Gelu, and you and your friends will go about your way. If you deviate from this plan, I'll put a bullet in your head, and we'll be one cop short. But it's not like we can't find any more buddies on the force."

Royce was a good kid, had a good heart, and Burt could see the wheels turning in his head. Knowing how cops think, Burt pushed the barrel onto the side of Royce's head and sighed.

"Don't make me shoot you, kid. You're good people. You and your family have been wonderful help these past few years. Outside of your blind support for the Princess, of course, but this is a different game now. You screw me on this, and you'll have more than your paycheck to worry about."

"Was that a threat?"

"That it was."

Royce's jaw clenched, but instead of turning, he kept straight on their course. The rest of the ride involved Burt comfortably pointing the gun at Royce, not at all bothered by the angry glares shot his way, and Burt pulled out his phone. He shot off a few texts to some of his friends and was happy his people were available at such short notice. He would need all the help he could get.

* * *

It took a steady flow of cold water to wake Rachel up. She peeked open her eyes to find Quinn leaning over her. Quinn had some kind of glow around her, something Rachel had never seen, but it didn't cover the damage done to Quinn's body. Her shirt was ripped open, her chest littered with blisters, and the black eye Santana gave her that morning was the least painful looking injury on her face.

"You 'kay?" Quinn asked.

Though it sounded like gibberish to her ears, Rachel got the gist. But she couldn't answer the way she wanted. Her throat was still dry, her skin felt inflamed, and the pain in her head was almost unbearable.

"Is the truck ready?"

Rachel recognized the voice. It was Mike, but why couldn't she see him? Rachel tried to turn to find him, but Quinn stopped her.

"Don't," she warned.

Rachel hoped her eyes conveyed her confusion, and Quinn waved over Mike. The Zephyr came into view, and if Rachel could, she would've gasped. Mike looked worse than Quinn. His left arm dangled from his body, his pants hung off his hips, showing a cut going across his stomach, and the skin around his right eye was an ugly mixture of red and black. Rachel couldn't stop staring, but the pain in her head was becoming distracting.

"You need to stay still, alright?" Quinn said.

"Honestly, it would be better if you went to sleep," Mike suggested. "Because the sedative will wear off very soon and that headache will turn into something worse."

Rachel blinked, trying to figure out why he would say something like that, but the longer she stared at him, the heavier her eyelids became, and though she fought to stay awake, Rachel succumbed to sleep.


	14. Chapter 14

Simon, Quinn, and Mike arrived a little too late, or they arrived right on time, Simon wasn't able to decide which one due to the chaos taking place around him. It was their arrival that forced everyone to stop and take sides. Cops on one side, Hunters on the other, with Simon and Santana in the middle. Mike and Quinn pushed their way to where Rachel was lying on the ground, and Quinn gave Simon a short nod when she checked Rachel's pulse.

"You shouldn't have done this, Mercedes," Quinn said. "You have no idea what you've done."

"You'll thank me when it's over."

Quinn huffed, but it was Santana who steered the conversation towards the situation at hand.

"It would be in your best interest to leave, and take your weapons with you. This matter concerns you not."

Simon winced. He hated how gravelly his sister's voice sounded. It reminded him too much of Solomon, too much of their father, and Simon could only assume it would get worse. But what bothered him the most was Rachel. Though Quinn gave him the okay, Simon could easily see Rachel was in bad shape. They were too late to stop whatever torture the Hunters participated in, and it seemed as if Rachel was in and out of consciousness. There was a fireplace poker protruding from her stomach, and Simon could smell the burning flesh from where he stood. Some of the Hunters had cigarettes dangling from their lips, and Simon noticed the small burns up and down Rachel's arms and chest. There were burnt matches tossed around. Simon guessed they took their jobs very seriously.

"Step aside demon. This one's ours now."

Santana hummed, and Simon took a step back. Flames rolled off his sister's body, like water, flowing down her arms, her fingers, over her fingertips and back up again. Simon saw the fire pulse and knew his sister was waiting, searching for a reason to give in. Santana had strong willpower, and not even her subconscious could make her break, but the past few days pushed at her limits. Fortunately for her, and unfortunately for everyone else, the choice came in the form of a command uttered by the Hunter closest to Santana.

"What the hell you lot waiting for, huh? A formal invitation? Kill them and help me get this thing on the back of the truck! The last train for New York leaves in two hours, and I wanna be on it!"

"Do. Not. Touch. Her," Santana growled.

"Or what?"

Those blue flames roared to life, and that was the only warning Santana gave.

"Quinn, Mike, move!" Simon shouted.

The two were unable to move in time, and as arrows flew from the crossbows, bullets from the guns, and there was even a knife thrown in for fun, his sister became a living bomb. Simon expected the impending explosion, but it still caught him off balance. Simon evaded the shrapnel from the trucks nearby but wasn't able to land on his feet. His arm snapped from the impact, and he felt wood slice through his back. He skidded through the dirt until he hit a tree and barely stayed awake long enough to watch what happened next. It was cliché, really, how at that moment it all seemed to happen in slow motion.

Santana's flames torched everything and anyone that wasn't an ally, or Rachel, and the very few lucky enough to escape jumped into the sole remaining vehicle and took off. However, just like him, Quinn and Mike suffered injuries because of the blast. Quinn got the worst of it, the angel unable to right herself before her face broke her fall, and Simon could easily see her jaw as it hung sideways from its hinges. Then there was Mike, who had to pull a piece of metal from his waist and, pinned beneath an overturned truck, was his shoulder.

There was a scream, one of pain and frustration, and Simon immediately knew who it was. Based on the overwhelming stench of burnt flesh, wood, and burning rubber, Simon assumed there weren't many survivors. He wasn't able to dissect his sister's response as much as he wanted, as his re-cracked ribs, broken arm, and his back combined to create so much pain that his body shut down. But one thing he did know was that the sudden silence bothered him to the core.

Where did his sister go?

* * *

Quinn flew back a couple of feet, nearly into the woods, but luckily enough, she was able to stay within shouting distance. Which, of course, did not go in her favor as she twisted at the wrong time, and the concrete cushioned her face. Quinn's jaw cracked and her nose shattered, and a rock embeds itself in the side of her temple. She couldn't call out, her jaw so out of whack it felt no longer connected to her skull, but what was worse was the body she landed next too.

Royce Jones, Mercedes's brother, and a once good friend.

Quinn only recognized him because the flames burnt everything from the neck down, and those warm chocolate eyes stared back at her in a frozen state of disbelief. Tears welled, and she cried for him. He wasn't supposed to get roped into all of it. Royce had goals of becoming a big city cop to get away from the small town politics. Royce was the one Quinn thought would break the cycle, but she guessed the pay was too good, and the price too high to ignore.

She rolled over on her back, moaning at the lack of feeling in her face, and she lifted just enough to see Simon across the street. He had shards sticking out of his back, and she saw his arm twisted at an unnatural angle. Just down the way, she saw Santana hunch over, and as a scream left her lips, Santana vanished. Still echoing, Quinn could hear it even as she passed out from the pain, and the last thing on her mind was where did Santana go?

* * *

Mike manipulated his fall the best he could, but when the wind shifted, Mike was too late to move out of the way. The truck landed on his left shoulder, and he knew the nerves in his arm had ripped, and his shoulder dislocated. Mike then felt a sharp sting in his stomach, and he looked down to see a piece of metal stuck in his hip. Mike couldn't move, and it felt like his arm was going to fall off. It didn't help there was this searing pain on the right side of his face. When he wiggled enough to dislodge his shoulder, Mike glanced over the wreckage and saw Santana hunched over on the ground. She'd released a lot of power, and Mike had to think she exerted a little too much. When she screamed, Mike's assumptions were proven correct, and smoke surrounded Santana until the demon was no longer standing in the middle of the highway.

For a while, there was only silence. Simon was out for the count, as was Quinn. Mike closed his eyes, letting the pain flow through him when the wind warned him someone was coming. They weren't an enemy, but Mike didn't have the energy to try and wait up for them. Plus, if it were a real threat, Mike would've gotten a different warning. He decided Simon and Quinn had the best idea and thought maybe he should take a little rest as well.

* * *

Santana landed in front of an all-too-familiar throne, and she clicked her tongue against her teeth. Standing up, she brushed the dirt from her pants and knelt in front of her father.

"Get up. You and I both know you bow to no one."

Santana rose and dropped the honorable daughter act. She cocked her hips and waved her hand expectantly. "Well? How and why am I here?" she said.

"I am to assume your brother told you about the special qualities of Lima, Ohio?" her father asked.

"You would be correct in your assumption."

He hummed and placed his chin in the palm of his hand. In the privacy of the room, with not even Solomon around, Santana was grateful her father chose to act like the man she knew, and not the King everyone believed him to be. Small miracles, she guessed.

"The failsafe was in place long before that stupid law came to be. I have been waiting for you to get here for the last hour. No one else is here. Your brother is halfway across the realm trying to figure out why the dogs are throwing temper tantrums."

"Pardon?"

"To which part?" her father asked.

"If you think I care about the hounds, then you are mistaken. I meant the word failsafe. Explain what you mean by that."

"Ah, that. I believe it would be better if we had this conversation somewhere else."

"What could be more private than this place?"

Her father smiled thinly, and said, "You would be surprised how much things have changed since you were last a resident of this home."

Santana could always tell when her father was lying, and she was concerned to note he was telling the complete truth. "Why am I here?" she asked again.

Instead of answering, her father snapped his fingers, and the same smoke from before enveloped her. She held her breath, tired of breathing in sulfur, and when solid ground met her feet once more, she looked around and found herself on an abandoned rooftop.

"Las Vegas? You do know demons are hunted like crazy in this city, right?"

"Maybe, but we will not be here long enough for the Hunters to pick up our scent. I brought you here because this is where that half-baked prophecy, or however you refer to it now, came to find me in my prime."

"For the love of everything wrong in this fucked up world, can you stop being vague and tell me what's going on?"

"I see your penchant for colorful vocabulary has not changed," he said wryly. "But I will ignore it for now."

"You are not going to get an apology," she said.

"I was not looking for one. Come." Her father inclined his head towards the two chairs conveniently left on the roof, facing the strip, and added, "Sit with me."

Santana hesitated to follow him, realizing she'd been all too willing to let him take the lead, but a small part of her knew that if he wanted her dead, he would've done so at any time.

"If you wish to get back to Rachel, then I suggest you come and sit down."

At that, Santana's head snapped to him, and she took a step forward. "What do you know about her?" she asked.

"You mean what do I know about the one you lost everything to save?"

"Yes," Santana gritted out.

"Sit down, and you will find I know a lot more about her than you do."

Santana clenched her fists by her side, belatedly realizing she felt cold, and something told her that had something to do with whatever her father did. She threw her head back with a sigh and made the walk to where her father sat. He reclined in the chair, something you'd see on a patio somewhere, and Santana sat down beside him.

"To begin," he said. "I think I need to explain what happened was beyond my control. I exiled you on the hopes that one day you would come back to me, as promised to me, and it was a risk, but once you discover why, you will see I made the easiest choice."

"The easiest choice?" she repeated. "How was banishing me the easiest choice?"

"The other option was to watch you die, and I have my issues but I am still your father, and you are still my daughter. Seeing you like that would have destroyed me and left me with nothing."

"You say that like Simon and Solomon are just here for entertainment. You would have moved on," she said.

"They would be adequate replacements, but you are and will forever be my greatest accomplishment."

Santana twitched, and it seemed her father knew better than to let that comment stay in the air for too long. He crossed his legs and sighed.

"I never told you the truth about the prophecy, or the warning, as it should better be named. I was at this building, on this roof, when a woman came up here and told me I would raise the destroyer of man and humanity's savior. It was ironic to hear those words, but I humored her. She told me my children were blessings, but if I were reckless, I would singlehandedly be responsible for the eradication of humankind. She explained each of you in painstaking detail, and it became all too clear this woman was speaking the truth. So I listened, and when she left, I cried. Nothing hurts more than having to choose between your children, but at the end of the day, I made the right choice no matter how it might seem."

"Who did you choose?" Santana asked though she was sure she knew the answer.

"Is it not obvious?" he sighed. "I picked you."


	15. Chapter 15

Sorry, this is so late. I had food poisoning this week **.** **Word of warning, be very careful when reading this chapter. Everything you learned from the first fourteen chapters might not all be true. Santana herself admitted she** **"...told so many lies that sometimes the truth is hard to remember."**

I apologize for the horrible schedule, but I am officially back working on this story full time. Please forgive the shitty updating on my part.

I don't own any of this, just having fun.

I'm human, so there might be some mistakes.

* * *

"Me?" Santana frowned. "Why me?"

"Why not you? Your brother is an egotistical maniac with a superiority complex that rivals my own, and my other son publically and privately shuns me. You are the only one who balances insanity with sanity, and makes decisions based on what is best for all parties involved and not just one."

"Oh, right," she scoffed. "You don't know anything about me or what I've been through, Dad. You've never paid attention to me. So excuse me for not accepting your bullshit."

Her father laughed and stood up from his seat. He paced the roof in front of her, and said dryly, "You would be amazed at what I know. Just because you could not see me, could not sense me, does not mean I was not there."

Santana stayed quiet. She stood by her belief he left her alone for a majority of her life, and nothing he said would change her mind.

"Still do not believe me? Fine. You ran away to cause chaos in your youth. You were itching for something, for excitement, and I allowed you to leave. Who was I to stop you? But in your desire for carnage, you made the mistake of getting too involved with the people you were trying to save. In July of 1847, you were hiding out in a village with some of your fellow soldiers. You were on the Mexican side, trying to save their land, and you made the mistake of falling in love with one of the natives. Isidora was the daughter of a farmer, and she was sweet, beautiful, and I can see how you fell for her."

Santana's heart twisted into a knot, but she still said nothing.

"You were going to stay with her. I saw your heart, your desire, and it did not matter she knew you as Santino. You were going to love her the way she needed and wanted to be loved, and when the time came, you would tell her the truth. But your duties as a soldier intervened. You and your men had to leave, but you promised you would come back to her. You swore to her. You even stripped a piece of your uniform and tied it around her wrist. I thought it was the least demonic thing you had ever done, and I admired you for doing something even though there was a chance you could not keep your word.

"So it pained me to watch you return to a burned village with the natives tied to trees and their throats slashed. It also pained me, even more, to watch you cry for your slain lover. I wished I could turn back time, protect them, but the only thing I could do was direct you to her killers. They were cocky, having stayed within a few miles of the destruction, and I set you loose on them. Your men saw what you were, the truth, yet they kept your secret. That is when you changed. You threw yourself into battles, fights, and you relished it all. You needed the bloodshed because you were still fighting for Isidora and her family. You were killing men and women who followed ruthless dictators and fascists."

Her father slid his hands into his pockets and shifted gears.

"Before the Civil War began, you were protecting runaway slaves from their owners, and you would lead them to safety. One day, in your eagerness to return and help more escape, you let your guard down. Quinn was an excellent fighter, one of the best I have seen, but you were trained and still so very angry. However, I was shocked to see you save her life. You spared her, and you two spent a few days together. You became friends, and you taught her how to call for you if she needed you. She returned home, and you did not know it, at the time, but you are the reason her father threw her down. I know you like to think of her as another Fallen, but you and I both know she is an Angel with blood so pure it amazes me she curses just as much, if not more than you do."

Santana smiled weakly at the joke and muttered, "She says it's her one flaw."

"Indeed. Anyway, after you encounter with Quinn, you went back into hiding. Then the War broke out, and you reluctantly dragged yourself back into the fray. You fought, sometimes half-heartedly and sometimes with vigor, and that rush came back to you just as quickly as it left. That night you were out in the woods, I was with you, but I am ashamed to admit I did not see the lynching beforehand. I am also ashamed to admit I cheered you on, rooted for you, and I saw everything. You see," he paused and knelt in front of her, "I saw it all, Tana. I have seen it all since the day you left. I know the truth. You can lie to your friends, lie to your mother, but not to me. Especially not about that night."

Santana's smile fell, and she pushed him away, getting up from her seat. She covered her mouth and fought the wave of nausea that passed through her. She ran a hand through her hair once she wasn't on the verge of throwing up, and she laughed.

"You motherfucker," she said. "You want me to admit it? Fine. I killed the girl on purpose. Okay? I yanked her down from that tree, slit her throat and watched her bleed in front of him. I wanted him to know what it felt like to have his heart ripped from his chest and I wanted him to live with it just as I did! It wasn't fair. Izzy did nothing wrong! Her people did nothing wrong and yet they died like animals, slaughtered and left for dead. I didn't care who he was, who she was, or what color they were. Humans were all the same to me. Reckless, violent, evil creatures who selfishly took what didn't belong to them. I wanted them ALL to suffer."

Santana choked on a sob and tears streamed down her face as she said, "But..that…idiot grabbed the knife and stabbed himself. He died lying next to her, holding her hand, and that's when the haze lifted. My pain and my anger vanished at that moment. I ran because I became the same monster that killed Izzy, and I ran until I reached my bed. I wanted nothing to do with anyone."

"So what changed?"

"You, you and that stupid law to kill the Elementals," she grumbled.

"That was not my law," he sighed.

"Then whose was it?" she snapped. "Who else has the power to command an entire race of people to die with a single word?"

"I allowed it to happen, and I am not proud of that, but it was not me that idea came from."

"You expect me to believe that?" she muttered. "Try again."

"I am telling you the truth." Her father growled, and Santana knew he was growing angry with her. "You are so quick to judge me, to call me out, but how much longer are you going to pretend you knew about it from the beginning? You have lied for so long that you forget that your version of events, the events that make me seem like the bad guy, are not exactly how things occurred," he said.

Santana wanted to protest, tell him to fuck off, but she knew he was right. She said to Quinn and the others that she fought against her father's decision to kill the Elementals when in reality, she heard about it but did nothing. She didn't care. She knew they were dying, knew how they were dying, but she stayed out of it. It was easy to make herself the good guy in all of it, but Santana was just as complacent as her father if what he's saying is true.

"How much longer are you going to keep up this act? This act you have put on for your mother and Quinn? How much longer do you think your lies will remain lies, and the truth will stay hidden?"

Santana stared at him, keeping quiet, and he sighed.

"You stubborn child." Her father sat down and stretched out his legs. "I did not know about the Elementals until it was too late. Your brother used my distraction against me. I was so focused on you, making sure you were the one who could save humanity that I lost track of him. He moved behind the scenes, making decisions without consulting me, and then one day, Solomon murdered an Elemental from the Air tribe after she rejected his advances. He feared retaliation and ordered the woman's entire clan killed out of fear for his safety. No one questioned him on it, and they followed his lead. But in their haste, one of them escaped. You might know him as Mike Chang, but that is not his name. Anyway, Solomon grew paranoid and decided that all Elementals needed to die due to his belief they would join forces and attack."

"Did you say his name was Mike?" Santana asked.

"I did. How do you think he survived?"

"I didn't think-

"You can stop right there," her father interrupted. "You have already answered my question."

Santana scowled but said nothing.

"Nevertheless, I found out when Solomon brought so many to the Underworld that I had to pay attention to him, I had to notice, but they were all already dead or on the verge of death. Even if I did let them go, the group would not have made it out. The heat would have done its job before they could escape. I visited the cages often, hidden, and I mourned them. I gave what little food and water I could, but it was no use. I accept my role in what occurred, and I will never be able to wash their blood from my hands."

Santana folded her arms against her chest. Her father was many things: a liar, a cheater, a murderer, but there was one thing he was not, and that was impulsive. Killing Elementals had no actual purpose for him. It was why she was confused for so long. Why would he murder a group of people who posed little threat to him?

"Rachel is a beautiful girl," her father said, bringing her out of her thoughts.

"What?"

"Rachel. She is gorgeous. I first saw her when she was with her parents. They were both dead, tucked into a corner of the cage, but she caught my attention because her skin was not as pale or sickly looking as the others. In fact, she looked healthy, and I had many questions about why that was. Lucky enough, I had my questions answered later that evening. One of Solomon's friends went down into the caverns late at night. He was a horrible creature, one of the worst, and I will not tell you what he was doing, but I will say he tried to do it to Rachel, and he suffered the consequences. Now, it would not have been something worth mentioning," he stopped and looked her directly in the eyes, "had it not been you who intervened on her behalf."

Santana frowned, confused, and she said slowly, "What are you talking about? I didn't do anything."

"You did. Again, I have no reason to lie about any of this. You either believe me, or you think I am a liar, but I have nothing to lose or gain from this. Nonetheless, you saved her life. Rachel was asleep, unaware of what was going on around her, and I knew what the demon wanted. I got tired of standing by, so I followed him to step in. I waited until he stepped into the cage, but before I could do much of anything, you appeared. Hovering over Rachel, it was obvious you were not consciously aware of your actions. You seemed asleep, almost."

Santana felt an inkling in the back of her mind, it sounded like a dream she'd had a long time ago, but she kept a straight face.

"He did not see you, just her, and as he leaned down to pick her up off the ground, you reacted. Without a word, you thrust out your hand, took his heart from his chest, and incinerated it."

Santana's eyes widened. She did remember that, but she thought it was a dream. It was part of the reason she went down to the caverns the next day. She couldn't stop thinking about it, and though she knew they were down there, having passed the caverns to get home, Santana hadn't bothered to check. She did always feel weird whenever she was there, but until that dream, she didn't care enough to go deeper inside. When she did, that's when she found Rachel.

"That wasn't a dream?" she whispered.

"No, not a dream. Instinct. I did not know for sure, not until later on, that Rachel was your bond mate, but I did help you escape by keeping Solomon from following after you."

"How nice of you," she drawled. "But I could have used that same help when I got back."

"Yes," he said sadly, "When you came back, I made a choice I am still not happy with, but I needed to get you out of the Underworld, away from all of that. I exiled you so that you would be away from all the death and destruction that surrounded you on a daily basis. I wanted you out of there to find peace. It would not have been official unless I stripped you of your magic and renounced your title. It was what was best for you."

"You sent me to the Shadowland without magic!" she exclaimed. "How the hell was that what was best for me?!"

"It was the best way to keep you safe."

"Safe? I'm only safe because of my mother!"

"No! You are safe because of me!" he snapped. "You think your mother just so happened to summon you after your banishment?"

Santana's response died on her lips, and her father latched on to her hesitation.

"I know this is a lot for you to take in, knowing that, contrary to your lifelong belief, I have been with you every step of the way. But for fuck's sake, use your head! How would your mother know to summon you at that moment? How did she learn how to summon you? What made her do so after all these years? Mother's intuition?"

Santana flinched and stepped back. Her father rarely cursed, so she knew she'd touched a nerve.

"Your mother is a brilliant woman, one of the good ones, but I am the one who taught her how to contact you. It was because of me you ended up in Lima," he said, the fight leaving him. "I have protected you your whole life, Tana. I have tried to guide you the best I could with the hand they gave me. I have never claimed I did it the right way, but I did it the only way I could."

Santana's jaw clenched, and she turned her back on her father. He remained seated, and neither one spoke for quite a while. Santana couldn't focus. She was angry, rightfully so, but there were so many other emotions floating through her mind that she stuffed them all into a box and ignored them for the time being.

"If I can't leave Lima, then how did I get to the Underworld? More importantly, how did I get to Vegas of all places?" she asked blankly.

"This is just an illusion, a figment of someone's imagination. There are no Hunters or anything. We are still in the Underworld, but to answer the first question, you got to the Underworld the same way you left Lima the first time when you went to save Quinn. And do not lie and say you have been in Lima the whole time. I know you and Quinn have this honor code between the two of you about talking about your past, as I have heard so many versions other than the truth, but unlike you, I have not let your lies taint what I know. You and Quinn were gone from Lima for quite some time," he said.

"So what? Quinn and I have a reason for what we say and do. We know how things went down, know that I am the reason she was exiled and not because of her being a girl instead of a boy. We know we met before she was a Fallen, but it becomes easier to lie after a while, even to each other. But yes, I was in Lima before Quinn fell, and we only reconnected when she was actually thrown down. Anway, that was different. Quinn called for me. There was a weird tug when I left the town, but I thought nothing of it. When I got to her, in freaking South Africa of all places, I just felt this powerful urge to go back. I tried to ignore it, but it grew too great, and I asked Quinn to come back with me."

"Exactly. The same thing happened here, except I did not call for you." Her father waved his hand, and the roof disappeared. In its place, Santana looked around and found they were in her old bedroom. Her father gestured to the woman standing in the corner of the room.

"She is the one who called you. I am but a servant for her demands," he said.

"That sounds kinkier than I am sure you meant it to be."

Santana furrowed her brows. She knew that voice. When the woman stepped into the light, familiar blue eyes sparkled with amusement.

"Unbelievable," Santana said, chuckling under her breath.

"You should have seen this one coming," the woman teased.

"Wait, you two know each other?" her father asked, confused.

The woman grinned. "Something like that. Let's say she and I once shared a shower after practice, and things got a little out of hand."

"How did they get out of hand? What do you mean?"

Santana rolled her eyes and sat down on her bed, swiping at the dust that rose into the air. "We had sex Dad, and for the record, I don't know her as 'Seer' or whatever you call her," she stopped and shrugged, "I know her as Brittany."


	16. Chapter 16

Quinn leaned against the railing on Artie's balcony. There was still a twinge in her jaw which made talking hard, but there wasn't much she could do about it. Artie's Mom gave her something for the pain, but again, there wasn't much she could do. Mike was in one of the guest bedrooms, the medication from his makeshift operation sending him to sleep nearly two hours ago, and Tina and Maria were in the living room. Maria was better, not completely healed, but better, and Tina still pumped vials of Lucifer's kiss into the older woman until there was no doubt in anyone's mind that her blood was clean.

Simon and Artie were downstairs in the basement, Artie letting Simon use the exercise equipment to loosen the tension in Simon's still healing muscles and bones, while Artie's Mom spent her time with a still unconscious Rachel. Quinn had no interest in sitting around, watching everyone tend to their wounds while Santana was still missing. Simon and Maria might've been Santana's blood, and Rachel might've been Santana's bond-mate, but Quinn was Santana's everything else. She missed her friend, her sister, and the longer Santana was missing, the more she thought something was wrong.

It didn't help that, out there on the balcony facing the Lima creek, Quinn heard was hearing voices, or rather one specific voice; one that sounded suspiciously like Santana. When she heard it again, Quinn closed her eyes and rubbed the back of her head.

"I need a drink," she murmured.

"I know angels have faster metabolisms but are you sure mixing alcohol and pain pills is the best idea?"

Quinn jumped and spun around.

"San!" she exclaimed.

The demon cocked an eyebrow and crossed her legs. Quinn blinked at the girl sitting in front of her. Gone were the skinny jeans, the t-shirt, and the boots. Santana had on a piece of fabric that barely covered the important bits with a slit high enough Quinn could see the color and kind of underwear Santana had on: a light blue lace thong leaving little to the imagination.

"Stop staring."

"S-stop- are you serious?" Quinn hissed. "You look like, like, I don't know!"

"You're right. I do look different. But things change, as do situations, and this is one of them." She looked down and flicked lint off her dress. "Do I look bad or something? I thought it looked nice for something I haven't worn since I was a teenager," she said.

"Wait, what? And why do you smell like sulfur?" she asked, covering her nose.

"I found this in my old closet, and because for the last however long, I've been in the Underworld with my father and an annoying Seer who likes playing guessing games.."

Quinn hesitated, wondering which part of that sentence she should tackle first when Santana chose for her.

"My father and I are on neutral ground." Santana stood up and held out her hand. "I need to talk to you, and it would be best if we did so on my turf," she said.

"Your turf?"

"Have I not told you yet? Sorry, I got my title restored. I am officially a Princess again. Anything else you'd like to ask, wait until when we get there."

"Okay," Quinn murmured, reaching out to take her hand. "I'll go, but know that I'm not happy with the manner in which you're asking me."

Santana gave her a look and intertwined their fingers with a sigh. "Trust me when I say you will get used to that," she said.

Quinn wanted to respond, but the tug in her chest made her woozy, so she chose to wait until she was back on solid ground.

* * *

Just missing the black smoke that nearly engulfed the entire deck, Tina ducked outside, looking to see if Quinn wanted something to drink, but frowned when she discovered the angel wasn't out there.

"Looking for Quinn?"

Tina turned and smiled at Artie's Mom. "Yeah, just wondering if she wanted some coffee or tea," she said.

"Oh, she ran out for a moment, but I assure you she will be back," his mother said.

Tina waited for something else, but the older woman merely smiled at her over the rim of her coffee.

Once she realized that was the end of the statement, Tina asked, "Okay, well, how did you come across Simon and the others? Talk about perfect timing."

"Hmm, I wouldn't say that. We were there because we were told to be there. My son and I have connections in high places. It was suggested we prepare our home for visitors, some who might be injured, and we should expect the visitors to stay for longer than a few hours. Sad to say we would've been there sooner, but I smelled the sulfur from nearly a mile away. Then we saw the explosion, and well, I believe my son and I made the right decision in waiting."

"I heard it was bad."

"Bad is an understatement. It was horrible and the smell," the woman paused and shuddered, "let's just say you should be glad you weren't there."

"I agree, but may I speak freely?"

"You may."

"It's just…" Tina folded her arms and chose her words carefully. "After what's happened over the past few days, it feels like a lot is going on at one time. There are moments where it seems like multiple people are coming from all sides, there is no way to see where the threats are coming from, and overall, it's almost as if there are-

"Several groups of people are after you at one time?" the woman finished.

"Yeah," Tina said, relieved. "Exactly like that."

Artie's Mom chuckled and placed her mug on the mantle of the fireplace. "Sweetheart, it feels that way because that's what's happening. I would love to tell you to get out while you can, for all of you who aren't demon or angel born to get out while you can, but you can't. Once you're in this, you're in this. Trust me on that. It's impossible to run from what's coming, and it would be best if you did what you could to stay alive. Today was only the beginning, and I'm afraid the casualties will be a lot worse."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Tina, once again, got no answer. She remained in the living room long after the older woman left, and she only moved when her stomach growled for attention. As she made her way to the kitchen, Tina couldn't shake the feeling someone, or something was watching her from the woods. She turned around, searching the trees, but saw nothing but grass and leaves. Her eyes continued to look for something, for anything, but after her hunger made itself known again, she gave up.

"Just your nerves, Teen," she whispered. "Just nerves."

* * *

"This your old room?" Quinn asked, swiping at the dust on Santana's old dresser. "It's a lot pinker than I was expecting. It looks like you never made it out of the little girl stage."

Santana shut the door and said, "That's because this room belonged to a seven-year-old, and it isn't mine. It belonged to my sister. My room was the half-empty one we passed on our way here."

Quinn heard the off-handed declaration of the fourth child no one knew about, but she chose to ignore it as she said, "Oh, you mean the one with the cracked full-length mirror and scorched floorboards?"

Santana hummed in response and sat down on the bright pink comforter. Quinn watched the way she fingered the tattered sheets and bit the inside of her cheek to keep from asking the obvious.

"For the record, my father loved all his children the same way, which isn't as comforting as you might think, but there was a time where his smiles were a little wider and less strained. To the public, Simon was the final child, but in private, there was another. No one knew Simon's mother had twins. My father went through a lot of legal work to keep the fourth child under wraps. Simon, for all intents and purpose, was the only child born that evening. My baby sister, Celeste, was everything I am not: smart, beautiful, sweet, and honest. She stayed with me every day, any chance she could, and I loved it. We were inseparable, until the one day we weren't."

Quinn stayed quiet. Santana looked around the room, smiling now and then, but there was an emptiness to it that Quinn recognized as poorly hidden pain.

"I made plans to go out with my friends that day. Celeste understood, kissed me goodbye when I left, and I hurried so that I could come back to play with her. She was the brightest part of my day, and I haven't felt that brightness since that day. It was two weeks before her birthday when she died. If you've ever wondered why Solomon and I have a tense relationship, the truth is because I never forgave him for what he did. My father might have, as did Simon, but not me. Not ever. Reason being that asshole thought it would be a good idea to take Celeste out into the Burrows."

Santana clicked her tongue against her teeth, and there was barely concealed anger flittering through the sea of brown.

"Back then, before it burned it to the ground, the Burrows was an awful part of the Underworld, and yes, I understand the irony in that statement. But I never asked why Solomon did it, what purpose he had for taking her down there, and I never found out why. I hold on to the belief he did it on purpose, to try and scare her, but I can't prove it. I was down there, making my way to the park when there was a bunch of screaming. I thought something else was going on, and I knew it was well within my rights to get involved, so I ran towards the back entrance of the park. As I made my way there, in the in the distance, I spotted Solomon sprinting back to the house. When I managed to get through the crowd, I noticed some older women kneeling over a body lying in the dirt. I could see through them flashes of pink, and I pushed through to get to the middle."

Santana stood up and walked over to the double-doors. She rifled through the moldy clothes, dust floating into the air, and she pulled out a mud-splattered tutu-dress with specks of blood along the collar. "I bought this for Celeste when she turned six. Though it was getting too short, she still managed to get away with wearing it," she paused and hung the dress back up, "You know, part of me wonders if I'd gotten there a little earlier could I have saved her while the other part of me wonders why I didn't just stay home. No one knows what really went down, how she ended up on the ground, but it didn't matter how. I didn't give a single fuck about the how. Just the who and the why. The crazy thing is I never cried. I never yelled or screamed or raged over it. I simply picked her up, said goodbye to my friends, and held her to my chest. The back of her head was cracked open, blood still leaked from the wound, but I could feel her chest rising just a little. She was alive, barely, and so I carried her home. The whole way, I sang to her, spoke to her, told her it was going to be alright, and I did so until we got back home. I ignored everyone around me, just - a sea of blurry faces - and I placed her right there on that bed. I stayed with her until she stopped breathing. My father came in, saw her, and cradled her body to his, sobbing. In the corner of my eye, Solomon tried to slip out into the hallway, and I ran after him. I grabbed him and slammed him into the wall. I was going to kill him, snap his neck when Simon stepped in and told me to take a walk. And that's what I did. I walked into the Burrows, set a small fire, and as I watched it burn, I made the decision to leave for the human world. The next time I stepped foot into the house, I said my goodbyes, and I left."

"So, that's why you fought in all those wars?" Quinn asked softly.

Santana frowned and shook her head. "No, I had planned on doing it anyway. There were rumors of battles between the humans, rumors of bloodshed, and I wanted in on it. Celeste's death just accelerated the timeline."

Quinn shuffled back and forth. "Not that I'm complaining, but why are you-

"Telling you this?" Santana guessed. At Quinn's nod, she said, "Because there are a lot of moving parts to my family, a lot of lines crossed, and this is one of them. Celeste is a part of me that I keep buried, but she isn't the only thing I've kept from you."

Quinn furrowed her brows when Santana pulled a necklace from beneath her dress. It was old, ancient, and something you'd see from the 1800s. Quinn hated to admit she'd never seen it before.

"You will hear a lot of information tonight in a short amount of time, but you need to understand it's all important. However, before you see my Dad and our guest, I need to come clean about some things. I want to clear the air, wipe the slate because when we get back to Lima, we have to have transparency between us."

Quinn nodded, still confused, but figured the best thing to do would be to agree.

"Right, well, I've told you about Celeste. So now-" Santana ducked her head and sighed deeply. "I need to tell you about a woman named Isidora."

* * *

 **Sorry for the mistakes.**

 **-TM**


	17. Chapter 17

Quinn woke up with Santana curled into her side as they lay on the floor, the red sun of the Underworld streaming into the bedroom. She yawned, stretching the best she could without jostling Santana, and ran a hand down her face. She'd lost track of time, only remembering a lot of tears, frustration, and apologies shared between the two, and Quinn had a better understanding of why Santana was the way she was. Thinking of what all Santana told her, Quinn tightened her arm around the demon and glanced out of the window. For the realm of death, the Underworld wasn't as dark and gloomy as most people believed. It was a realm, just like any other, and the sun shined on it all the same. Santana whimpered in her sleep, and Quinn looked down, waiting to see if she needed to intervene, but Santana's breathing evened out, and the threat was over.

"As much as I lie awake at night, and tell myself she came out unscathed, both of my daughters died that day."

Quinn turned over, careful not to jostle Santana, and met the eyes of the man she'd only heard about from Santana or her father. Based on the horror stories she'd heard in the Heavens, and the way Santana talked about him, Quinn thought he would have red horns, a red tail, and yellow eyes with fangs that dripped blood.

Well, at least he didn't have the red horns and the tail.

"I will say that you are good for my daughter. You balance her crazy and throughout the interactions I have seen she would not be here had it not been for your continuous support."

Quinn hummed, his words going in one ear and out the other, but suddenly she remembered one interaction they shared she hoped he didn't see. A night, nearly six decades ago, where the combination of too many drinks and not enough common sense created one wrong decision after the other. Not including the one that went on well into the morning of the next day. Quinn cleared her throat and looked down at the floor as she asked, "Um, out of curiosity, were you present for all of our interactions or just some?"

He chuckled, stretching his legs out in front, and said, "If you are referring to what I think you are referring too, let me say I have seen more of my daughter than I want to admit, and I have seen things no father should ever see. So after that night, I made an effort not to watch you two so closely."

Quinn blushed and scratched the back of her neck. "It was a decision we both tend to avoid mentioning, Mister," she paused, "Satan?"

"For the sake of the conversation and my sanity, call me Lou."

The body under her tensed slightly, and Santana's breathing changed just enough for Quinn to realize Santana was waking up. Giving no indication to Lou about his daughter, Quinn nodded at him, and she said, "That night can give someone the wrong impression. We were drunk, stupid, and we were looking for the wrong kind of company. She and I are better off as..." she trailed off and frowned. "Honestly, I have no idea what we are. I would say we are like sisters, but that doesn't seem right. I guess you could say I'm her person."

"Her person?" Lou repeated.

"Yeah. It's from a show we used to watch."

"Oh." Lou seemed to think over his next words and said carefully, "Are you two okay?"

Quinn glanced down at Santana, knowing the demon was listening to every word, and said, "We're okay. Nothing time can't fix."

"Are you being honest? Or are you just saying that?"

Quinn smiled. "I made a promise not to lie, so yes, she and I are okay. And if there are the things that linger, then we'll fix them with time and effort."

"Good." Lou stretched out his right leg and kicked Santana's thigh. "Please stop insulting my intelligence, child. I know you are awake," he said.

Quinn bit her lip to stifle her laugh when Santana grunted and sat up straight, scooting back until she hit the wall. While Santana and her father spoke in a dead language Quinn never bothered to learn, she studied her friend, her person, and cataloged all the things that had changed. She didn't know if it had to do with the restoration of her title or just the fact she was rejuvenating in the Underworld, but Santana was different. Her hair was longer, healthier, and the scattered marks Quinn remembered seeing now and then were more unified and intricate. Santana's eyes changed as well. They were brighter, less crimson and more like a candy apple, and the black specks once embedded in her pupils were gone. Santana's voice even sounded different. Every time she spoke, Quinn fought the urge to bow like a servant in front of the Queen.

"What all did you tell her?" Lou asked.

Santana yawned and waved her hand aimlessly around the room. "The things she didn't already know," she said.

"Tell me what you said, word for word."

Quinn's head cocked to the side at the tone. It sounded authoritative, and when Santana stiffened, Quinn's confusion deepened. She had a feeling she'd missed something, and it didn't help Santana did as her father commanded. No smart remark. Just utter and complete obedience.

"I'd only been on Earth for a little while, no longer than a few weeks when I found myself in a small village near modern-day Los Angeles. I can't remember its name, only that it was so peaceful. We were only there to rest, to assist, and for a while, that's what we did. It was seven of us, and we spent time with different families. We learned how to cook, how to hunt, how to sew and we learned about their culture. While I was there, I fell in love with a village girl. Her name was Isidora, but I called her Izzy. She was sweet, and she was so beautiful that I found myself finding any reason to spend time with her. Unfortunately, Izzy only knew me as Corporal Santino Ramirez. Eventually, she would have to find out what and who I was, but at the time, it didn't matter. We were good together, but of course, life has a funny way of intervening. My men and I had to leave, and I promised I would come back. I even gave her a piece of my uniform."

Santana paused, seemingly lost in her head, and Quinn stayed quiet while she listened to the story a second time around.

"When I finally came back, I had already decided to stay in the village. Izzy was someone worth sticking around for, even though I knew it could go wrong once she discovered the truth. Instead of a beautiful and thriving village, I found remnants of burnt grass and destroyed homes. Someone decided it would be a good idea to not only set the place on fire but also to tie the villagers to the trees and slit their throats. It took about thirty seconds before I realized Izzy and her family were dead and there was nothing I could do. I cut her down from the trees, my men standing behind me, and I held her body to mine. She had the piece of my uniform around her wrist, and I removed it. Though covered in blood, I noticed she'd sewn a strip of cloth to combine my uniform with something of hers. At that moment, I'd lost something else. Celeste took my smile, and Izzy took my heart. I was in so much pain, so much anger coursed through my veins that I no longer cared about the war. I wanted to find the men who killed her, and I did.

"At the time, I thought it was just luck we came across them when we did, but I've only recently discovered my father had a hand in helping me locate the American soldiers. I killed them all, without hesitation, but in my rage, I shifted into a demon in front of my men. When all was said and done, I was afraid that I would have to kill my men as well, but they swore to take my secret to their graves. After that, I threw myself into the fights with no abandon."

"What about the night in Mississippi? What did you tell Quinn?" her father asked.

Santana twitched like she wanted to say something else, but instead, she said, "Four months after I met you, after our fight, I reluctantly joined the Union side of the Civil War. Slavery disgusted me, and I hated what was happening to the country I continued to fight to save. I served, and I murdered men and women alike. I left it all on the field, in the towns, and I watched them all burn once I finished. One day, I decided to run to Mississippi. There was so much going on down there that I thought I could be of use, but when I was out walking the woods, hoping to come across some slaves in need of assistance, I stumbled across a lynching. I'd gotten my wish, unfortunately. A man and a woman hung from a tree, their toes barely touching the stools keeping them from suffocating, and at first, I felt nothing towards them. Nothing but an obligation. Then the man grabbed the hand of the woman and squeezed, and I saw their wedding rings glint from the light of the torches. Izzy came to the forefront of my mind, after a century, and that pain still burned inside of me.

"I ran out into the crowd, and I took them apart one by one. When I got to the couple, they were afraid of me. They screamed for me to leave them alone, and a small part of me was going to cut them down and take them to safety, but I wasn't in the right state of mind. I didn't save that couple, I yanked them down from the tree, and I used my knife to slit the throat of the woman. I wanted her husband to feel what I was feeling, but instead of screaming and yelling at me as I hoped for, he grabbed the knife from my hands. Before I could react, he stabbed himself in the stomach and fell back onto the ground. They died in each other's arms, and that's when everything slowed down. I felt sick. I was dripping blood, and the smell of death overwhelmed me. I'd become a monster, so I took off. I ran and went back to the Underworld still dressed in the Union suit. I stripped them off and climbed into my bed. I never left the Underworld after that. I watched the humans drop nuclear bombs on one another, watched them put people into camps with cages like they were animals, and I stayed out of it. I had nothing invested in them, and to me, they weren't worth saving. Not anymore."

Quinn ducked her head, pulling her knees to her chest, and sighed. She understood why Santana altered or erased the stories about Izzy, about Celeste, and about that couple. Santana wanted people to see her differently from her father and Solomon, and she didn't want everyone thinking she was just as evil, if not more, than her family. But the truth was Santana was just like her family, and that wasn't going to change any time soon.

There was silence in the bedroom, Lou looking as if he wanted to know more, but he said nothing. Santana deflated against the wall, like a puppet cut from its strings, and started to cry. Quinn reached over and squeezed Santana's calf, knowing that's as much comfort the other girl would want, and the only sound in the room came from Santana's soft cries.

"Even after all this time, it still hurts," Santana finally whispered.

"It will always hurt, but the pain will fade. As all pain does," Lou said.

"As touching as this is, we have more important things to discuss."

Quinn jumped at the new voice entering the conversation and turned to the side. "Brittany?" she exclaimed. "What are you doing down here?"

Brittany smiled tightly at Quinn before she turned to Lou, "If you are done testing the strengths of the bond, may I suggest we move on to the real motivation behind this impromptu meeting?" she asked.

"Right. Of course."

"Bond? What bond?" Santana asked, swiping at the tear tracks on her cheeks.

"With the restoration of your title came the natural bond you once shared with your father. Now that you are Princess again, officially, you are expected to maintain a form of subordination to your superior," Brittany said. "In other words, since your father is technically the King, whatever he asks of you, Santana, you are wired to do to the best of your ability. It is in your blood to obey someone with authority over you."

Quinn winced at the dark look on Santana's face, but it passed as quickly as it appeared. Brittany hummed to herself and snapped her fingers. There was the same tug in Quinn's navel. Gone was she from the Underworld, headed somewhere only Brittany knew.


	18. Chapter 18

Brittany dropped them in the Shadowlands, smack dab in the middle of the barren fields, and Santana shivered out of habit. Souls wandered around, still moaning and crying for loved ones they would never see again, and Santana recognized many of them from her time spent here.

"This is where you will kill your brother," Brittany said.

Santana folded her arms against her chest. She saw Quinn frown from the corner of her eye, saw the question forming on her lips, and cut the angel off before she could ask. "There is one more war to fight, one I have no choice but to join. Unlike the others, this one isn't over land, or religion, or a lifestyle. It's supposed to truly be the war to end all wars, nothing like the one the humans tried to do in the 1900s, and it will determine whether or not the human race lives to see another century," she said.

"I…what?"

"Do you remember me mentioning a half-assed prophecy my father mentioned?" At Quinn's nod, Santana continued, "Well it wasn't as half-assed as I believed. I told you before that it wasn't my father who killed the Elementals, at least not directly, and that it was Solomon who felt it necessary to murder an entire group of people because one of them rejected his advances. Anyway, to start from the beginning, Brittany is a Seer. She knows several versions of the future, knows how they end, and knows which choices will lead to which outcome. She told my father many years ago that it was predicted to lead an army of demons, vampires, witches, and everything that goes bump in the night; an army that would kill over ninety percent of humankind within a matter of weeks. I was to set fire to the land, cause the oceans to flood, and leave the survivors with the choice of becoming my slave or dying in a manner of their choosing. Dramatic, I know, but Seers are rarely wrong when it comes to things like this. "

"You're speaking in past tense," Quinn pointed out.

"Because things changed. Santana is no longer the one who will bring Hell to Earth, but is now the one who will save it."

"I'm not following."

"I don't see how. It's not that complicated," Brittany snapped.

Quinn's jaw clenched, and she stepped back, closer to Santana.

"What we're saying is that Solomon is now the one planning to eradicate the human race within the next couple of months," Santana said stiffly.

"Months!?"

"Yes, though I imagine his timeline could change at any moment. Anything, any person, can alter his plans, and right now, his army is growing by the minute. He seems to attract a lot of unsavory characters, including those with high ranking positions amongst the witches and vampire covens spread across the world. Tell me this, would you go against the High Prince of the Underworld, tell him he is crazy for his beliefs?" Brittany said, her tone still cold.

Before Quinn could respond, Lou stepped in and said, "You see, Quinn, my son believes the human race is toxic to the progression of supernatural kind and wants to convince others that the world would be a better place without them. No Hiding. No Fear. No Hunters. That is the slogan whispered through the Underworld, through the back alleyways and in all the dark covens spread across the South."

"Not just in the South," Santana said. "There are some in the North, down the East and West coasts, and more recently, in the Midwest."

"Lima, Ohio, to be specific," Lou said.

"Wait, really?"

"You would know that if you paid more attention to your surroundings."

"Enough, Brittany," Santana said.

Quinn smiled in thanks, but her heart wasn't in it. She had no idea what she'd done to Brittany and hadn't for the last few months. One day maybe Brittany would tell her, but until then, she would have to weather the storm.

"Lima has a group of Solomon's followers growing in numbers, and up until a few days ago, they were content in the shadows. Unfortunately, the arrival of a specific Elemental changed things. Solomon was unaware that any Elemental existed. Mike is an expert in keeping his bloodline a secret, but Rachel reeked of a lost kind that Solomon would prefer to stay lost," Santana said.

"Is that why Finn and-

"No, they were Hunters doing their jobs. They only saw a paycheck, not the consequences that would come from their actions," Brittany cut in. "However, now that Solomon knows an Elemental, the Elemental his sister saved and stole from him, resides in the very town he has a group of people waiting to do his bidding, well, you get my point."

"So the attack on Rachel yesterday?" Quinn asked hesitantly due to the fact she was afraid Brittany would snap at her again.

"Coincidental. It had nothing to do with Solomon, though I assume he would have benefited from it. What went down was all human. The Hunters wanted revenge, and they simply moved faster than anyone else. Also, you should find yourself very lucky that I have contacts in Lima who are all too willing to help when needed, and that Santana is Rachel's bond-mate. The outcome of yesterday would have been much different otherwise."

"Um, thank you. And what did happen to Santana? One moment she's there, on fire, and the next, she's gone."

"Does that seriously sound like it's important to you?" Brittany asked.

Quinn blushed and started to tell the group nevermind, but Santana answered.

"I got the devil's blood in me," she said dryly.

"Huh?"

"What my daughter means to say is that I restored her title at the very moment the explosion happened. Normally she can cool down, calm her anger, but even down here, I felt what little magic she had in her start to wane. She was dying, and I knew if I did not intervene, then she would burn out. Completely. So I restored her title, and with it, her magic. The sudden influx caused the explosion, and Brittany called her down here."

"I called her down at that moment because she needed to recover, and this is the best place for that to happen. You know, her being a demon and all."

"Yeah, no, I got that much," Quinn said. "I just didn't know she had the blue fire."

"Yes, she has that kind of fire, but the intensity in which it burned and how hot it was?" Lou said, shaking his head, "That did not come from me I can assure you."

"So where did she get it from then?"

"I got the power boost from Rachel," Santana sighed. "My beloved is an illegitimate child, born from an affair, and she doesn't even know it. How do you think we bonded? I am fire, she is water, and on paper would we never work. But Rachel has the blood of a Fire running through her veins, and I tapped into something Rachel doesn't even know she has."

Quinn's eyes widened. "Rachel's a half-breed?"

"Yep."

"When do you plan on telling her?"

"Moment I get back. Among some other things."

"You might have to wait a little bit longer," Brittany said.

"Why?" Santana asked.

"Because she will not be waking up any time soon. Rachel lost a lot of blood, a lot of magic, and a lot of energy. She's lucky to be alive."

"You told me she was okay!"

"She is, but that doesn't mean she doesn't need rest."

Santana swiped at a random soul trying to latch on to her. She recognized it as the same old lady that wouldn't leave her alone the first time she was there, and then she scowled at Brittany. "Is there anything else you need or can I go now? I want to see her for myself. In person."

Brittany hesitated but nodded. "Fine. If I need you, well, I know how to find you. Take Quinn with you. She has served her purpose."

Santana rolled her eyes and grabbed Quinn's arm. Having her magic back was a blessing and a curse, but at that moment, it was a blessing. She gave her father one last look, making sure he knew she hadn't forgotten the comment about the bond, and flicked her wrist, closing her eyes as her magic swirled around her and Quinn to return them to Lima.

 **RSRSRSRSRSRS**

Tina bounced her leg up and down, clicking through articles on the internet when the smell of sulfur filled the room. She gagged, shaking her head, and turned around to see where the smell was originating.

"Sup Witch."

Tina blinked. The person standing in front of her looked like Santana, but at the same time, it didn't. It didn't sound like her either, and Tina could've sworn neither Santana nor Quinn had the magic to do whatever they just did.

"I think you broke her," she heard Quinn whisper.

"Not the word I would use," Tina muttered. "Confused. Irritated. But not broke."

"Why are you irritated?" Quinn asked.

"Because you just up and left without a word! And no one's giving me any answers as to what is going on! And Mike still isn't awake, neither is Rachel, and Maria still can't keep down food. I'm stressed out and the two people who can help vanish into thin air!"

"Are you done?" Santana said wryly.

Tina growled but gave a short nod.

"Wonderful. One, why are we at Artie's house? Two, which room is Rachel's? And three, why are you looking up articles about sex toys?"

"They're not sex toys," Tina hissed.

"So you say. Now, answers please?"

"Only if you give me answers."

"Quinn will tell you what you want to know, but I seriously need to see Rachel."

Tina pinched the bridge of her nose and pointed up the stairs. "She's in the last room on the left. There's still the pipe so please be mindful."

"Got it. Anything else I should know?"

"Yeah, I hate you with a passion."

"Join the club," Santana said, blowing Tina a kiss as she made her way up the stairs.

Considering she was looking for it, Tina saw the panic in Santana's gaze when she mentioned the pipe still being in Rachel's stomach. Santana's eyes always gave her away. When Santana was gone and no longer listening to their conversation, Tina looked at Quinn.

"Wanna tell me why she's dressed like that, and why she sounds like that? And while you're at it, wanna tell me how the hell she got her magic back?"

Quinn scratched the back of her neck and said, "Grab Simon, Maria, and some liquor. I've had a long night, and I would rather not be sober for any of this."

 **RSRSRSRSRSRS**

Santana peeked in on Mike. The door was open, and after learning he survived one of the first attacks by her brother, the least she could do was make an effort to be kinder to him. And since he was asleep, making sure he was still breathing would have to do for the moment. She tip-toed her way down the hall, not sure if there was anyone else around, and eventually kicked off her heels. She held them in her hand and pushed open the door to the room where Tina told her Rachel would be.

To her relief and sadness, she found Rachel lying on the bed in her ripped clothes and still covered in burn marks.

Santana walked around the bed, making a list of every injury she could see, and also made a note of the paleness of Rachel's skin.

"I'm sorry it took me so long to get to you," she whispered, even though she knew there would be no response.

Santana sat on the edge of the bed, brushing the hair from Rachel's face, and sighed. There was nothing she could say, nothing until Rachel was awake, but that didn't mean she couldn't stick around and keep her company.

The wind shifted, the shadows curled, and Santana didn't bother turning around as she asked, "You were a bitch to Quinn earlier, you know that right?"

"That's none of your business."

"None of my business? You had sex with my best friend too many times to count, and then you go off and treat her like shit? For what? What's the purpose? You just looking to expand your collection of fuck buddies or something?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just curious if Seers are naturally promiscuous or if you're covering up the fact you screwed something up. You're the least sexual person I know, not including our interaction, so what happened? Why are you treating her like this?"

"No reason."

"Seriously?"

"Yes."

"So you feel nothing towards her?"

"No."

"You're a shit liar," Santana mumbled.

Brittany clicked her tongue against her teeth and changed the subject. "Rachel will be fine. When she wakes, I expect you to have that conversation as soon as possible. Try not to delay it."

"Sure thing, oh all-seeing one," Santana grumbled.

"Don't do that."

"Don't do what? Treat this as if it's strictly business? Funny, I thought that was the goal you were aiming for."

"I'm only doing my job!"

"Yeah well we're fine down here," Santana snapped. "So how about you fuck the hell off and go do your damn job." Santana went back to caressing Rachel's face and added, "I got it from here."

"Fine."

Santana heard Brittany leave, and she sighed. She knew they would be fine, not their first argument and certainly not their last, but Santana didn't have it in her to feel guilty. Most of her emotions revolved around concern and fear for the girl on the bed. Santana carefully made her way to the other side and lied down. She gently placed her hand on Rachel's collarbone and kissed the shell of her ear.

"I'm here," she whispered. "I left you before, but I won't do it again. I'm right here."

* * *

 **Author's Notes: I know it's slowed down, and I'm sorry for that, but it wasn't on purpose.**

 **All mistakes are mine. I'm human, so there might be a lot of them. I don't own any of this, just having fun.**


	19. Chapter 19

Santana sat cross-legged on the bed with her back against the headboard. She drained the last of her water and rubbed the back of her neck. For the last few days, she'd been in the room with Rachel. Waiting. They'd managed to remove the pipe without too much damage, stitched the wound, and Artie's Mom put Rachel on an IV to make sure the antibiotics got into her system. No one really bothered them, not Quinn or Tina, not even Simon or her mother. And Santana hadn't heard from Brittany since the last time they spoke. It was just her and Rachel, in their silence, with one hoping the other would wake soon while the other had no idea the world was going to fall apart at her feet.

The early morning sun poured into the bedroom, and Santana sighed.

"Day four," she whispered.

Santana's back hurt, mostly because she hadn't let out her wings in seventy-two hours, and the horns dug into her shoulder. She stretched out her legs, crossing them at the ankle, and closed her eyes. She leaned her head back against the wall and started to sing under her breath. When she wasn't telling Rachel about her past, the same things she said to Quinn, she sang random songs throughout the day while Rachel slept.

 _From the way you smile_

 _To the way you look_

 _You capture me_

 _Unlike no other_

 _From the first hello_

 _Yeah, that's all it took_

 _And suddenly_

 _We had each other_

 _And I won't leave you_

 _Always be true_

 _One plus one, two for life_

 _Over and over again_

Santana stopped and thought about the day she left Rachel with the Berry men. Hiram and Leroy let her speak with Rachel alone, trying to give them both the semblance of privacy, Santana spent most of that time reassuring Rachel that everything would be okay, even though she knew it probably wouldn't be. That was the first time she'd felt something for any girl that wasn't Izzy, but she buried and ignored it.

 _So don't ever think I need more_

 _I've got the one to live for_

 _No one else will do_

 _And I'm telling you_

 _Just put your heart in my hands_

 _I promise it won't get broken_

 _We'll never forget this moment_

 _It will stay brand new_

 _'Cause I'll love you_

 _Over and over again_

Santana then thought about that time she saw Rachel in the hallway. Part of her was still angry, but she couldn't deny the excitement of seeing the other girl again. After all, she was the girl who both occupied her dreams and her nightmares.

 _From the heat of_ night

 _To the break of day_

 _I'll keep you safe_

 _And hold you forever_

 _And the sparks will fly_

 _They will never fade_

 _'Cause every day gets better and better_

The song was more romantic than she wanted, but it was the first one that popped into her head. And she wasn't going to overthink it. At least, not yet.

 _Girl when I'm with you_

 _I lose track of time_

 _When I'm without you_

 _You're stuck on my mind_

 _Be all you need_

 _'Til the day that I die_

 _I'll love you_

 _Over and over again_

The rest of the song faded and she came to the startling conclusion she was beginning to mean every word. Santana blamed the restoration of her magic on her growing feelings towards Rachel. She felt nothing at first, but now, she felt everything.

"Why'd you stop?"

Santana's eyes popped open, and she glanced down. She hadn't even heard the girl roll over, let alone wake up.

"You're supposed to be unconscious," she whispered.

Rachel blinked sleepily and yawned, wincing in pain before she said, "Not quite. I've been awake for the last couple of days."

"Seriously? Why haven't you said anything then?"

"The pipe." Rachel grabbed Santana's hand and placed it over the spot where the stitch marks were. It was just under where her heart would be, almost in the middle of her chest. "The Hunter who stabbed me must've studied the anatomy of my people. He jammed the pipe in my core, which does more damage than had he aimed for my heart," she said.

Santana's hand twitched, feeling the raised skin, and there was a warmth that spread through her body at the simple act of having Rachel's hand in hers, but she said nothing other than, "I'm not sure I understand."

"Think of it this way, when a sink clogs, nothing can drain, and it begins to build up. The pipe plugged my core, keeping my magic in one spot and limiting how much I healed. As it began to build, my body shut down which gave the appearance of me being unconscious. The truth was quite the opposite. I was awake, but I couldn't say or see anything. I heard every word, felt every touch, and knew who was in the room at every moment."

"You heard every word?"

"Every last one. Including what you-" Rachel stopped and exhaled softly. "Including what you said to Quinn about me being a half-breed."

"Oh."

Rachel snorted. "It's alright. I kind of always knew I was different. Do you know about my birth?" she asked.

Santana shook her head no, and Rachel started to lift herself up. Santana debated whether or not she should help, but Rachel was already leaning against the headboard with her head resting on Santana's shoulder by the time she made her choice. Santana smelled the peach cobbler from before, but there was a different scent mixed in, something like the combination of a bonfire and the ocean. She couldn't explain it, but it was uniquely and only Rachel.

"You want me to move?" Rachel whispered.

"No," she said. "I don't mind."

Rachel hummed and slid her arm through Santana's. "I've known my whole life something was off. You don't grow up in a secluded colony with the same people your whole life without a few rumors going around about you. None of them bothered me, but there was one that stuck with me. For an Elemental, Mike could tell you the same thing, but a proper birth tells a lot about how a child will grow up. Obviously, a water child is born in the water, but in my case, my mother gave birth to me in our home, in the tub, with a midwife and my father. No one else. It wasn't until I was older did I know why my birth was weird. You see, I was born covered in ice. You would think for a water baby that wouldn't be odd, but it is. Head to toe, a thin sheet of ice, and to top it all off, I had these deep purple, eggplant eyes with platinum hair. I've always hated the way I looked, the way I truly look, but magic is a wonderful thing."

"Are you saying this isn't what you look like?"

"It's just another layer."

Santana bit her lip and asked, "Well, can I see the real you?"

Rachel hesitated.

"Please?"

She nodded slowly and reached into her shirt. She pulled out a large gem and placed one hand over it. The other hand she covered Santana's eyes with and muttered something under her breath. Santana had no idea what she said, the language unusual and gibberish to her ears, but when Rachel uncovered her eyes, she was looking at an entirely new person.

"Please say something," Rachel whispered.

Santana was reeling. She heard Rachel, heard what she said, but those eyes. She knew those eyes. When it hit her, it hit her hard. She scrambled off the bed and ran to the far side of the room. "Holy shit," she said.

"What? Do I look that bad?"

"No, no. It's just...we've met before. Sort of."

"Huh? What are you talking about? I haven't been like this in ages. The last time I went without my magic was in the 18-

"The 1800s," Santana finished. "You were in the woods in Mexico, and you were bathing in the river. You thought you were alone, but you weren't. I was out getting water, trying to find the freshest I could, and I saw you through the trees. When you turned and looked right at me, I panicked, and I ran, but I never, ever, forgot those eyes."

Rachel stayed quiet. Santana hoped she remembered. She had too.

"You're the reason I stopped going around humans, why I stayed glamoured," Rachel finally whispered. "I thought you ran because you were afraid of me, of the way I looked. I thought my Mom was right, that I was prettier if I looked like the other girls in my colony. I wanted to run after you, tell you not to tell anyone you'd saw me, but I figured it would be better to go back home."

"No, that wasn't it at all. I thought you would be angry at me for intruding on you but…I never thought you were ugly. You were the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. You were – are – breathtaking and I can't believe I didn't see it at first. How did I not see it?"

"See what?"

"See you. I've seen you many times with those eyes, and yet, this is the first time that memory popped into my head," Santana said. "Why did I not recognize-

She stopped and growled under her breath.

"BRITTANY!" she shouted.

Like before, the winds shifted, and Brittany appeared in the corner of the room.

"You did something, didn't you?" Santana hissed.

Brittany said nothing, but her face said it all.

"What the hell did you do? Why didn't I remember before but I do now?"

"Because I allowed you to remember."

"You allowed me? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"I removed the block on that memory. You'll slowly realize I've kept a lot of things from you," Brittany said.

"What gives you the right to do that?! Who the fuck do you think you are tampering with my memories?"

Brittany crossed the room in two strides and said, "I am the only thing keeping your ass from becoming the Satan Spawn you try so hard not to be! For the last however long, I have worked my ass off to make sure shit happens the way it's supposed to happen so that this world doesn't go up in flames. One wrong move and everything could change, and up until ten minutes ago, I wasn't working against my flesh and blood. Your brother decided he wanted a Seer on his side, so he seduced my sister, and now he knows everything. And I mean everything. Not to mention my damn council keeps telling me to stay out of it, to mind my path, and I'm sick of it! I'm tired of watching you two dance around each other like two middle school kids, so yes, Santana, I removed the blocks on your memories. Don't even get me started on the sheer amount of rules I've broken already just by getting you two in the same room for longer than a few minutes. The council wants things to progress naturally, but, at the rate you two were going, the world would have gone up in flames before you two even had your first kiss. I'm trying to save your life and the life of everyone you love. So give me a damn break!"

Brittany's chest heaved, and Santana felt that guilt she'd been trying to avoid roar to life. Beneath the anger, Santana could see the exhaustion and the pain, and she sighed. She wrapped Brittany in a hug and kissed the side of her temple.

"I'm sorry, Britt. I didn't know."

Brittany grunted and broke the hug. She swiped at her eyes and stepped back just as the door opened. Quinn poked her head in, worry etched onto her face, but the moment she laid eyes on Brittany, her concern turned into irritation.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

Santana held up her hand to stall Brittany's response and said, "There's an empty room down the hall I think you two need to use."

She pushed Quinn out of the room and glared at Brittany until the Seer walked over towards the door. She caught Brittany's arm, and the Seer shook her head.

"Wait, San, don't-

Santana cut Brittany off and said, "That's my sister. You and I had a thing, I get it, but don't ever think I won't pick her over you. It will always be Quinn over you."

Brittany's eyes glazed over for a moment, and then she sighed. She removed her arm from Santana's grip and said, "It would have been better for you and I both had you told Rachel about us before you made that comment."

Santana nearly face-palmed, and kept her back to Rachel when Brittany quickly closed the door behind her as she left. Counting down from ten, Santana looked over her shoulder and noticed a thin sheet of ice covering the bed sheets. She winced, seeing the look on Rachel's face, and groaned. It wouldn't be an issue that Santana and Brittany had a semi-relationship once upon a time, but considering it was a highly physical one, one Santana didn't mention over the past couple of days, she could see why Rachel would be upset.

"For the record, I was going to tell you," Santana started off.

Rachel got off the bed and made her way towards Santana. "Oh? Before or after you told me about all the other girls you slept with?" she asked.

"Um…after? It was different with Brittany."

"I see. So being with Brittany was different?"

"Yes."

"And why was being with Brittany so different?"

There was a tone there, hidden under the question, and Santana went over all she'd said. She closed her eyes and shook her head.

"No, wait, that's not how I meant that. I meant our relationship was purely physical. There were no feelings involved."

"So you two just had a lot of sex?"

"I...feel like that's a trick question."

"No trick at all." Rachel smiled coolly and placed her hands on Santana's shoulders. "So, yes or no?" she asked.

Santana felt the coldness seep through the thin fabric and swallowed roughly. She was usually the predator, but at that moment, she was definitely the prey, and Rachel was on the verge of devouring her whole.

And not in a good way.

* * *

 **This is a long chapter, so there might be a few grammatical and spelling mistakes. The song is _Over and Over Again_ by Nathan Sykes. I don't own any of this, just having fun.**


	20. Chapter 20

Santana and Rachel trekked through the woods behind Artie's house and found a clearing where they could talk. She'd eventually confessed her relationship with Brittany was more than sex and made the mistake of asking why Rachel cared so much. Her bond-mate decided the conversation would go much better away from the others, and stayed silent until they'd gotten outside. She ended up being silent for so long that Santana nearly repeated the question.

But before she could, Rachel sighed and said, "When you left, a part of me hated you. You made me feel something I'd never felt, and then you left. I was alone, dealing with all these conflicting emotions, and I called for you. I begged for you to come back, but my pleadings went unanswered, and I buried all those confusing feelings deep in my heart. You were nothing but a memory, and I wanted it to stay that way. Then Hiram and Leroy died. They gave me a sense of safety, and when they died, I lost that. So I ran away."

Rachel laughed and to Santana, it sounded hollow, but it still echoed through the trees.

"As I told you, I city hopped for eight decades, never staying anywhere longer than a couple of years. I preferred cities in Maine, Oregon, Vermont, Canada, and even a couple of places in the United Kingdom. Not to mention Norway, Denmark, Sweden, and pretty much anywhere cool and near water. I was in no rush to settle down, but," she paused and lifted her head towards the sky, "I got bored. So I tried my hand at living as a human. I went to high schools, only spending a semester at the school, and then I went to college for a few months in Copenhagen. I made friends, got good grades and I even held down a few jobs, but I knew people would start to notice I wasn't aging like the rest of them. That's when I emptied my accounts and bought a one way to London, where I stayed the longest. It was the only city that attracted me as much as Seattle did. The rain, the weather, and the culture made me feel at home. I was happy there, but unfortunately, after too many close calls with Hunters and other various creatures, I had to leave. No money, no transportation, it's a miracle I made it happen, but somehow I found myself back in Maine. For some insane reason, I thought a change of pace would do me right, so I moved to Miami.

"The crazy thing is that in all those cities, I spent my time wondering what I did to deserve a life like this. I was ready to end it all and see if the afterlife offered me anything better. I was two seconds away from removing that damned necklace when I got a gut feeling to come to here, of all places. Imagine my surprise that at my lowest point, the one person I tried to forget appears and stirs up all these feelings I thought I left in Seattle."

Rachel stopped walking and faced Santana directly. "I'm not upset you slept with Brittany or any other girl, at least not the way you're thinking. I'm jealous she was on the receiving end of your love before me, and I'm envious that she's done things to you I've only dreamt about doing. She's kissed the skin I've wanted to taste for myself. She's touched the body that has frustrated and excited me at the same time. She's watched you come undone more times than I care to envision and it's just…not fair.

"But, out of everything I've been through, loving you has been the hardest, most complicated, infuriating, and nerve-wracking thing above all. However, at the same time, loving you is so easy that I don't even think about doing it anymore. It's easier than opening the palm of my hand and forming an ice crystal or snowball. It's easier than lifting my eyes to the sky and willing it to rain or storm. It's the only damn thing in my fucked up existence that makes the most amount of sense. Does that answer your question as to why the hell I care so much you slept with Brittany?"

Santana had nothing to say. At all. She didn't anticipate the monologue nor the real reason behind Rachel's mood shift. She was ready for anger, for irritation, and for everything other than a heart-wrenching confession that left her reeling. By the time her head, heart and mouth were on the same page, Rachel had walked off towards the house at a faster pace than before. Santana jogged to catch up and grabbed the back of Rachel's shirt. She pulled the other girl to her and shook her head when Rachel tried to speak.

"Wait, listen, okay? I can't give you that same declaration of love because I haven't felt it for as long as you have, but that's not to say I don't feel anything for you. I never stopped thinking about you, even when I was here and miles away from you. Even late at night when I was supposed to be thinking of Brittany or anyone other than you, it was always you that was the last thing on my mind. I thought you were the most beautiful creature that day in the forest and nothing has changed. You're still more breath-taking than any girl I've been with, and yes that includes Izzy. She was beautiful, but you take it to another level.

"These aren't new feelings, but up until a few days ago, I was able to push them aside. With my magic back, everything's more intense and what I got comfortable ignoring has overwhelmed me ever since I returned from the Underworld. Please don't mistake my silence for something that it isn't. I can love you just as strongly as you love me, if not more, and I can please you all the same. All you have to do is give me a chance."

Santana removed her hand, hoping she'd said the right thing.

Rachel didn't immediately respond. Instead, she watched her with an intensity that made the weak-kneed feeling from before come back stronger. Santana twitched and tried stepping back, but Rachel latched on to the hem of her shirt and tugged her forward.

"Can you do something for me before we go inside?" she muttered.

"W-what's that?"

Rachel's finger dipped beneath the waistband of her shorts, and she drew small circles on Santana's skin. "A kiss," she said.

Santana had a hard time focusing on the words coming out of Rachel's mouth. She was distracted by the ringing in her ears, by the finger inching dangerously close to uncharted territory, and by the proximity of Rachel's lips to hers. When the words registered, part of her thought the two of them kissing would be a bad idea, but the other part of her didn't care. She took a few seconds to make sure Brittany wasn't going to show up and tell them the world would explode if they kissed, and when nothing happened, she took that as a sign to continue. She leaned down and pressed her lips against Rachel's. The kiss was tentative at first, but as it grew more intense, Santana lost her sense of everything.

She cupped Rachel's face with both hands and deepened the kiss. When Rachel's cold tongue darted out and brushed against her lips, the sudden contact shocked her so much, she yelped and accidentally bit down on Rachel's lip. In her panic, her wings sprouted without warning, and the sudden weight made her off balance. She fell forward, and they landed on the ground in a crumpled heap. Rachel's knee jerked up between her legs and Santana dug her nails into the dirt with a low growl.

Then Rachel began to poke her in the stomach, and she looked down, asking what was wrong.

"Baby, you're hot," she whined.

Santana ignored the fact Rachel called her baby and said, "What?"

"Get off! You're making me melt!"

"I thought that was a good thing."

Rachel glared and pushed hard, causing Santana to fall to the side. "That's not what I meant," she ground out.

"How am I supposed to know what you mean?"

"Look at your arms," Rachel deadpanned.

She did, and that's when she saw the glow beneath her skin. She'd never been able to see the fire pumping through her veins, and she had a horrible, sinking realization that maybe kissing Rachel wasn't as good of an idea as she'd hoped. No sooner than she had that thought, Simon and Tina appeared from the trees, walking over to where the two of them lay on the ground.

"Brittany told us to come out here ten minutes after six, and now we see why," Tina said.

"Great because I could use some clarification as to why I'm starting to heat up or why Rachel feels like she's been sitting in the freezer for the past two days."

Simon snorted before he said, "Are you sure you can't figure out why your body is suddenly on fire? Or why Rachel's starting to freeze? Honestly, you two are in such a rush to, uh, interact with one another that you've completely forgotten that your bodies are not compatible. You have to do the ceremony first. Did Tina not warn you about this beforehand? A simple kiss could do more harm than good."

Tina snickered and pointed at Santana, "Exhibit A."

"Are you sure you want to push my buttons right now?" Santana scowled.

"Oh please. I'm carrying the one thing that will help you both so please, keep talking. That way I can pour it in the grass and make you eat the dirt."

Santana scoffed and picked herself off the ground. She held out a hand for Rachel, who smacked it away, and mumbled something about her being too hot.

"Hey, I'm only trying to help! Plus, you're the one turning into an icicle!"

"Which is why I didn't grab your hand, oh wise one," Rachel hissed.

"I love it when other people see how foolish you can be," Tina said to Santana.

"Fuck off, you stupid witch."

Tina blew her a kiss and said, "Love you too."

"Have you always been this much of an asshole or is this something fairly new?"

"I've always been like this. You've just been too depressed to see it."

"Low blow, Teen. Low blow."

"I learned from the best."

"Tina," Simon interrupted. "We don't have time for this."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Tina handed Santana a bottle of clear liquid and said, "Here. Share this with her."

"What is it?"

Tina gave her a look and folded her arms. Santana smacked her teeth and gave Rachel the first sip. When Rachel finished her half, she handed it to Santana, who looked at the bottle and then back at Rachel.

"It's frozen solid!"

"Give it two seconds, and I promise it'll be just fine."

Santana rolled her eyes, but sure enough, it became liquid once more when she held it in her hand. She drank the rest and slowly lost the feeling in her legs. She promptly fell to the ground and tried shaking off the dizziness. Rachel wasn't fairing any better, leaning heavily against a nearby tree.

"That," Tina paused and grimaced, "worked a lot faster than I thought it would."

"Wah wazz 'at?" Santana slurred. Why couldn't she feel her tongue?

"It's a numbing agent."

"Huh?"

"You'll see in the morning."

Santana wanted to respond, but the trees blurred together and she fell back onto the ground. Her head lolled to the side, and she saw Rachel already lying down.

"This is going to be fun," Simon said, kneeling beside her.

Santana used what little strength she had left and flipped him off before succumbing to whatever Tina gave her.


	21. Chapter 21

**Warning: Character Death.**

 **Sorry? Kind of**...

 **Somewhat a filler chapter. If there are mistakes, my apologies...**

* * *

Brittany twirled the charm around her neck. She had her back to the others so they couldn't see her face, and by others, she meant Quinn. The angel had a bad habit of reading behind the scenes, and Brittany didn't want that happening yet. At least not before she could do her part of the ceremony.

"So what does this ceremony entail?"

"Bunch of precision, blood, and patience," Tina answered.

Brittany schooled her face and kept her eyes down as she turned around. "And other things, but mostly what Tina said."

The witch grumbled under her breath about stupid ceremonial laws while mixing the ingredients needed. Brittany smiled, but there was no warmth in it. She hadn't told anyone what the actual ceremony involved…least not the one they were performing that night. Artie's Mom, Jennifer, came over and grabbed her by the arm.

"Come with me," she growled.

Brittany sighed and let herself be pulled in the direction of the kitchen, waving off the others when they gave her different looks of concern. "Just a conversation between old friends," she said, forcing a smile.

Jennifer yanked her into the walk-in pantry and slammed the door shut. She slapped her palm over the symbol etched into the wood, and Brittany's ears popped as the sound rushed from the room.

"You wanna tell me why you had this tucked into your jacket?" she hissed, brandishing an all too familiar paper.

Brittany rubbed her forehead and snatched it from her hands. "Do not say anything," she said. "Please?"

"How can you ask that of me!? What does this mean? I recognize enough to know this isn't a regular ceremonial speech," Jennifer snapped.

"Yeah because I'm dying!" Brittany snapped back.

"What the hell does that mean?!"

Someone knocked on the door, and Jennifer opened it quickly. Brittany looked up at the ceiling when Quinn told Jennifer that Tina was ready, and the older woman told her to give them another few minutes. Once the door shut, Jennifer put her finger in Brittany's face and scowled.

"What did you mean by that?" Jennifer hissed.

"Exactly as I said. When Santana called my name, I was already on my way to the damn house. The Council broke my immortality, and time is a bitch when you've been avoiding it for so long. It's catching up with me. So, this is my way of doing it on my terms."

"What does the paper say?"

"I can't tell you."

"Seriously?"

"I'm serious. If I tell you what I plan on doing, the Council will know about it. They can't see me, something about permanent protection no matter my status, but if I tell you, they'll know what I'm planning. So I literally can't tell you."

"Yeah, well what if I tell Quinn you're planning something stupid? What then?"

Brittany shook her head. "You can't do that. I don't care if you tell her once all is said and done, but please do not tell her before I get the chance to do this," she begged.

"Why?"

"Because I know how much she cares about Santana, and I know that if something were to happen to her, she wouldn't know how to go on."

"She loves you too, you know?"

"We would never get our moment."

"Says who?"

"Says life. I'm dying, Jen. I won't make it to the sunrise."

"This isn't fair," Jennifer whispered.

Brittany tucked the paper into her back pocket and wrapped her longtime friend in a hug. "I'm sorry it had to be you," she whispered.

Jennifer tapped the hands around her waist and laughed humorlessly. "Me too. Not a day goes by where I don't regret saving your life."

"Yes, well, I agree with you in some manner, but just think about all the years we wouldn't have had together," Brittany murmured.

"Again, I should've left your ass to die."

Brittany rolled her eyes and stepped back. "Whatever. Come on. We need to get started. I want to live long enough to see this happen. It's a once in a lifetime event for me," she said.

"You're unbelievable."

"You still love me."

"Unfortunately."

* * *

Tina stared at Brittany the entire time. There was something…off about the Seer. She was paler than usual, and her hair seemed like it was turning translucent. In short, she looked like something was sucking the life out of her. Her confusion only deepened when Brittany's shirt dipped, and the Mark of the Seers Council rested on her collarbone.

"Do you see that?" she asked Jennifer.

"Yeah, and it would be better if you pretended like you didn't."

Tina turned and looked at the older woman. Artie's Mom had a glass of whiskey in one hand and a cigarette in the other.

"Pardon?" she asked.

"I said, it would be better if you pretend like you didn't see it," Jennifer muttered. "Trust me."

"What do you know?"

"More than I want. Look, just be prepared to grab Quinn when I give you the signal."

"Wait, what?"

Jennifer took a sip of her drink and shook her head. "You'll know when it happens," she said, walking off.

Tina stammered her way through a response, but by the time she knew what she wanted to say, Jennifer was on the other side of the room. "What the hell is going on?" she whispered.

"Did you see that mark on Brittany?"

Tina jumped when Simon came up behind her, but folded her arms and nodded. "I did. Jennifer is hiding something," she said.

"Hmm. There's a mood around here. I don't know what it is, but there is something off," Simon said.

"Yeah, but _what_ is it?"

"Then I guess we keep watching until we figure _it_ out," Simon suggested.

Tina scrunched her face in annoyance and went back to staring at Brittany. The Seer took a syringe of Santana's blood while Mike did the same for Rachel. In the midst of her confusion, worry, and fear, Tina grudgingly admitted the black and red liquid formed a color similar to gold was cool. But when Brittany coughed into her arm, Tina saw specks of red splatter against the pale skin. She frowned, and in the corner of her eye, noticed Simon do the same.

"Did you see-

"Yeah," Simon interrupted. "I saw it."

Before Tina could say anything, Brittany clapped her hands together. "Thank you, Mike, for your help, but I got it from here," she paused and cleared her throat, "Quinn?" she called out.

The angel looked up from where she'd been sitting on the floor. "What's up?" she said.

"Can you and Mike grab those water jugs from the backyard? The red and blue ones?"

Quinn nodded and jumped up, following behind Mike outside.

"Simon, can you step back for me?"

"Why?"

"Because I don't want the smoke to get to you," Brittany said.

"Uh, sure?"

Simon stepped back, and Brittany smiled before she tossed a stone on the carpet. Tina recognized it a little too late, and she burned her hand on the barrier as it shot up from the floor.

"Dammit! Brittany! What are you doing!" Tina shouted.

The Seer put down another stone, and the barrier shimmered. The sound vanished, and Tina couldn't even hear Brittany breathe. She slammed her palms on the boundary, not caring about the searing pain in her hands, and Jennifer came up behind her and pulled her back.

"You'll burn the skin off your hands."

"I don't care," Tina said.

"What is she doing now?" Simon asked.

Tina shook her head when Brittany pulled out a piece of paper from her back pocket, and a bright light covered her body. "Oh no," she whispered.

"I take it you've figured it out then?" Simon asked. At her nod, he said, "Mind sharing with the rest of us?"

Tina grimaced as she clenched her fists, trying to stop herself from knocking on the barrier again, and said, "She's-

"Hey, what's going on? Is this part of the ceremony?" Quinn interrupted.

Jennifer nudged Tina and gave her a look. "Remember what I told you? Now is the time to grab her," she hissed.

Tina hesitated, but apparently, Simon heard, and he grabbed Quinn.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Quinn said, struggling against the hold. "Simon, let me go."

"I can't. I don't know why yet, but I can't." Simon then kicked Tina gently and added, "Please finish what you were saying."

Tina sighed when Brittany began to mouth the words on the paper, and that translucent appearance to her hair grew more pronounced. "Brittany's doing the Seer's version of the Soul Ceremony," she said.

"Still need some details. What does that mean?" Simon grunted after Quinn elbowed him in the stomach.

"Brittany's going to bind them together with her soul. It's an old ceremony, one that went out of use because too many Seers were dying."

"What! No!" Quinn shouted. "Simon, please!"

The demon closed his eyes and tightened his grip. He did so to the point that Quinn began to gasp, and Tina knew the angel would pass out if she continued to panic. She stepped in front of Quinn and grabbed her friend's cheeks to force her to look her in the eyes.

"As much as it pains me to say this," she said, "If we break that barrier now, we risk losing all three of them. We have to let her finish."

"But she'll die," Quinn whimpered.

"She's dying anyway," Jennifer said suddenly.

"Come again?"

"She's dying," Jennifer repeated.

Tina frowned, ignoring the tears rolling down her cheeks, and said, "How can she be dying?"

"The Council broke her immortality. Brittany's been alive for a long time, and time is now her enemy."

"I still don't get it," Simon said.

"Think of it this way," Jennifer sighed. "Brittany is rotting from the inside out at a fast rate. She won't be alive by the sunrise."

"Okay, see? Now you have to let me go. Let me help, please," Quinn pleaded.

"You'll die too," Tina said.

"I don't care. But I can't watch her die. Please don't make me."

Tina clenched her jaw when Simon put Quinn down and held onto her waist with one hand while he covered her eyes with the other. "Then you won't watch," he murmured.

It was crude but effective, and Tina held her friend's hand while the ceremony went on. The group, minus Quinn, looked on as the Seer finished reading the paper, and then they watched as the bright light spread over Brittany's body and also over Santana and Rachel. Tina saw Mike from the corner of her eye hang his head and walk off. There was nothing they can do, and Brittany faced them as the light grew brighter. She looked at Simon and motioned for him to drop his hand, and he did so. Quinn blinked and jerked forward when she saw Brittany smiling at her.

The former Seer blew Quinn a kiss before she mouthed, "I love you."

Quinn moved away from Simon and punched the barrier and kept punching it. No one stopped her. Even as her skin grew red and blistered, Quinn kept hitting the field until Brittany started to fade.

"No," Quinn said, her throat raspy. "Please don't leave me."

Brittany gave her one last smile and signed something. Tina didn't know, neither did Simon, but evidently, Quinn did because she fell to her knees. Brittany continued to fade until she no longer stood in front of them, and the barrier finally dropped. It took all of four seconds before the situation settled, and Jennifer left the room. Simon ran a hand over his face, but it was the scream from Quinn that not only shook Tina to the core but also shook the foundation of the house. Tina didn't know how much worse their night could get.

And then, Santana woke up.


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: Mistakes are mine.**

 **Just having a bit of fun with characters that don't belong to me.**

 **A/N: I'm shit at math, so Artie is actually 71, not 53. Don't ask how I came to that conclusion.**

* * *

The house was in a suspended state of uncertainty. Everyone was emotionally drained, tired, and exhausted from the events that night. Artie and Jennifer were quiet, sharing strange looks Simon wanted to decipher, but instead, he got up and told everyone he needed some fresh air. The sun was rising, but it was still early enough he could walk around and not garner any attention. He didn't walk far, but when he got back, Simon couldn't shake the feeling someone was watching him. It wasn't the first time either. He'd been feeling that way ever since the day of the explosion. It put him on edge. Simon had his enemies, just like most people, but he'd hoped he left all that behind when his sister brought him to Lima. Then again, he of all people knew you couldn't always escape your demons.

"Hey. You alright?"

Simon glanced at Artie and nodded. "Yes, just thinking."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Nothing big. But-" Simon paused, "-the town is quiet, tranquil, and it feels like there are people-

"Watching you from the shadows?" Artie guessed. "Yeah, Tina's been mentioning that as well. So has Mike. I guess because I'm human I don't sense it the same way you guys do., but I do get the impression we're not always alone."

Simon's brows furrowed and he asked, "Human?"

"Yeah. What else did you think I was?"

"Not sure, but I did not think you and your mother were human."

"Ah," Artie hummed. "The joys of having a Seer for a best friend."

"So you and Brittany were close?"

Artie folded his hands in his lap and sighed. "Not always. We became close out of necessity, but once upon a time, Brittany was just another cheerleader at McKinley. She wasn't a bitch, but she sure as hell wasn't interested in someone like me. Back then, Brittany was having fun, enjoying her time before Santana arrived in Lima, and she made sure she lived up to the cheerleader stereotype," he said.

"So what happened to change that? Change your opinion?"

"It was a Thursday night, the day before homecoming of my junior year. My Mom and I were at the convenience store, which is a liquor store now, but back then it was where you went to get everything under the sun. I was in the car, waiting when I saw Brittany and a few of her friends walk in. To this day, I refuse to believe Brittany never saw it coming. Anyway, Momma came rushing out, but she'd forgotten my Sprite. She turned around and went back inside. No sooner than the door closed behind her, I heard this horrible screeching sound. I turned, and this massive pickup crashed into the front of the store. I was so afraid, but there was nothing I could do other than call the police. When the cops got there, I begged one of them to get me out and into my chair. I couldn't sit there and not know if my Mom was dead or alive. When I got in there, all I saw was red. Outside of Brittany and my Mom, it seemed like everyone was dead. The police held me back behind the line, but I saw my mother with Brittany's head in her lap. Brittany was under the truck, blood caked along the side of her face, and my Mom kept whispering in her ear. I never knew what they said, but after that, once Brittany was released from the hospital, she and my Mom were inseparable."

"Okay, so what does this have to do with anything?" Simon asked.

"Little bit of nothing, but I guess I should confess that the guy who drove the car that night and the cheerleaders that died were all a part of McKinley's Class of 1965." Artie bobbed his head and added, "And so was I."

Simon's brows furrowed. "That makes you-

"Seventy-one years old?" Artie cut in. "And I am. I may look seventeen, but I promise I have the mind of a man who's lived through too much. Though it sounds selfish, I could see why she did what she did, but Brittany went above and beyond to keep us alive. She essentially froze us in time, just like her. She kept us around because we were the only true friends she had, but Brittany's gone now. I have to come to terms now and wonder what's going to happen to my Mom and me now that our source of life is gone."

Simon searched for a response, but what do you say to someone who's dying? And knows it?

Artie clapped him on the shoulder and laughed. "It's alright. We made our peace the moment Brittany pulled her little disappearing act. I can't say when it'll happen. Probably won't happen tonight, or tomorrow, but it will happen. I can feel it in these creaky old bones," he joked.

Simon smiled weakly and said, "Still, I am sorry."

"It's all good. Now, come on. We need to figure out what we're going to do next, and we need to figure out where everyone is. Can't do much without the savior of the world in attendance, don't you think?"

"I would avoid calling her that when you see her," Simon said warily.

"I'm not worried about her, but I'll humor you. Plus, the only thing I need to be worrying about is who gets my comic books once I kick the bucket, right?"

"Um, sure."

Artie laughed and rolled back toward the house. "Laugh a little, Simon. Death shouldn't scare you, especially when people like us have been dodging it for as long as we have. Welcome it with open arms, you never know when it'll come to collect."

* * *

Emma tucked the unlit cigarette behind her ear. She watched the house through the trees. Emma saw the exiled demon sitting out there with Artie. She couldn't hear what they were saying, mostly because she was wondering how long before the protection on the house died off.

"How much longer?"

"The Seer died like thirty minutes ago," she scoffed.

"Some of us have families to get back to."

Emma snorted and glanced to the side. "You mean the family that hates you after you got your brother blown up?" she asked sarcastically.

"We're on the mend," Mercedes snapped.

"Sure, because your mother didn't reach out to me and ask if I knew any good realtors."

"They're moving houses, not towns!"

"Keep your voice down," Emma growled. "And if you think your little stunt didn't cost more than the lives of good men and women, think again. We almost got our ass handed to us by the Princess because you misunderstood the bond she shared with Rachel."

"Bonds can be broken."

"Not this one. Not anymore. We had Rachel, had a better plan on getting her, but then you had to go and associate with the Hunters. Those deaths," Emma paused and poked Mercedes in the chest, "are on you."

She left the younger girl standing in the trees and walked back over to the odd collection of witches, wizards, and other individuals more than willing to lay their life down to capture and rid the world of any and every one in that house. Including George Cohen-Chang.

"Are you okay with your sister dying tonight?" she asked him.

"She made her bed. As did I," George sighed. "I'll make my peace when all is said and done."

Emma nodded sharply and squeezed his arm. "Then once the protection falls, we move. We don't want them sensing us."

"Let me take care of my sister," he pleaded. "I don't want anyone else getting their hands on her."

"No," Emma said. "I don't trust siblings taking care of their siblings. It's against your instincts to kill one of your own. I can take care of her."

George grimaced but said nothing. Emma walked off and pulled the cigarette from behind her ear. She snatched a lighter from someone in passing and set fire to her worst habit. She took a long drag and blew the smoke into the trees. Soon she would accomplish what the others couldn't. She was going to kill the Princess, that bastard of an angel, and make sure that Gelu didn't see the light of tomorrow.

Unfortunately, Rachel and Quinn would be collateral. It was Santana who would cause the most trouble for witches and wizards, and Emma found it poetic it would be a witch that ends her life.

* * *

Cassian ran down the halls, his robes gathered by his calves, and he said excuse me each time he brushed against one of his superiors.

"Cas! What in the world is going on?" Elder Morry asked.

He shook his head and shouted, "I need High Leader Marcial! It is urgent!"

Elder Morry frowned but pointed in the direction where he could find the target of his message.

"Thank you, Elder!" Cas screamed over his shoulder.

Cassian sprinted as hard as he could, and when he spotted Marcial with the other High Leaders, he picked up the pace and skidded to a stop.

"High Leader Marcial, a message has arrived for you," he panted.

"Leave it with my successor. Now go your way."

"He sent me to you. He told me to tell you it is about one of the Fallen."

The High Leader excused himself and walked over to the side. Cassian held up the paper, and the High Leader took it from him. He read it, and when he finished, the High Leader crumpled the paper and called out for his men. The four soldiers ran over and saluted.

"Go to the Sanctuary Town," he ordered. The High Leader looked around and added in a voice so low Cassian strained to hear him, "And bring me back my daughter."

Cassian's eyes widened. He didn't know Marcial had a daughter. The soldiers nodded, and when they were gone, the High Leader grabbed him by his robes and growled, "Who all knows of this message?"

"J-just Leader Kavel and me."

"Then you will speak of this to no one. No one is to know of this. Not even Elder Russell and his wife. Am I clear?" he hissed.

Cassian's head nearly snapped off his neck with how hard he nodded, and the High Leader released him. He remained in his spot, rooted to the ground, while the other High Leaders began to disperse. He had no idea Marcial had a child, let alone one that was in the Sanctuary Town. The only one he'd heard of down there was-

He gasped and glanced at the retreating back of one of the most ruthless and traditional men in the Heavens. Quinn was the talk of the town once upon a time. Daughter of Elder Russell and his wife Judy, a woman who could not have children, Quinn was a miracle in everyone's mind. Then she was on the block for exile. Cassian knew her as a child, but they grew apart with age. When it came down to a vote, he explicitly remembered Marcial was one of the ones who voted yes to keep her in the Heavens. Everyone else said no, and Marcial was out-numbered. But Cassian couldn't shake the thought crawling up the back of his mind.

What if Quinn's exile had more to do with her bloodlines and not her behavior?


	23. Chapter 23

**A little bit of insight into Quinn.**

 **Spoiler Alert: Someone dies in the next chapter, and we have a lovely family reunion to attend.**

 **Mistakes are mine.**

 **Just having fun.**

* * *

For the last two hours, the group paced the living room, throwing out ideas on what they could do next, but so far no one came up with anything worth looking into any further. Quinn ended up lying down on the couch, and while the rest continued to talk amongst themselves, she tried to get some sleep. But as soon as she closed her eyes, she hissed and looked down at her left hand. The burns were gone, thanks to some salve Tina made, but there was a mark forming on her palm. When it became clear what kind of symbol it was, she quickly made her way to the kitchen. She ran her hand under cold water, hoping it would soothe the pain, but in all honesty, the only thing Quinn could focus on was the mark itself.

It was the crest of a High Leader, but she couldn't tell which one.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

Quinn looked at Santana. "Someone up there summoned me," she said.

"Who?"

"I don't know."

"I thought only angels, real angels, got summoned."

Ignoring the jab, Quinn murmured, "Me too."

"Right, so why are they calling you?"

"I don't know."

"What do you know?"

"That the only way I can get back to the Heavens is to have an escort."

Santana folded her arms and asked, "Which means what?"

Quinn grimaced, knowing how well her next statement would go over, and said, "Meaning archangels are on their way to Lima, and you will have to let them take me. Alone."

"Not a chance," Santana barked. "You are not going up there by yourself."

"First, if you think the magic you have, magic you've only just regained control over, can take out multiple archangels who have more experience than you on their worst day, then you must have a death wish you've been hiding from me. These are not Hunters with a grudge or rogue demons. These are men who protect their kind with the type of devotion that has them killing any and everyone who stands in their way, including those who might be innocent."

"Fine, but what's the second thing?"

"Who in the world do you think would be able to come up there with me?"

There was silence.

Santana glared at Quinn, clenching her jaw, and finally, she said, "You better come back in one piece."

"I will. One more thing, you might want to stay out of the way. They're not like me. They hate demons with a passion and they will not hesitate to attack first."

Santana clicked her tongue against her teeth and said, "Duh. Angels are conservative bastards with holier-than-thou attitudes towards anybody that isn't like them. I'm not stupid, but I stand by my original statement. You better come back with all ten fingers and toes, all body parts and not a scratch on you or I'm burning down the damn Heavens."

"Noted. Also, I have no idea when these angels will arrive, and I do not want you guys to get hurt by accident," Quinn paused and added, "or on purpose."

"Fine. We'll hide out for the time being."

"Thank you."

"Whatever. Don't get yourself killed dancing with the skeletons in your closet."

"I won't."

Santana gave Quinn one last look before walking away. Quinn listened to Santana's retreating footsteps and grunted as the pain in her hand became unbearable. She turned off the water and slid down to the floor. Seated against the cabinets, Quinn bit down on her lip to keep from screaming out as it felt like millions of tiny knives repeatedly slicing into her skin. She had no idea who changed their minds up in the Heavens or who summoned her, but she knew well enough that her answers would come soon.

And soon it did. No more than a minute later, five broad, stocky men appeared in the kitchen, and Quinn squinted at the one in front. Though his hair was longer, his face older, and his muscles a lot bigger than she last recalled, Quinn was confident one of the archangels was one of her former teachers.

Correction, that was one of her least favorite teachers.

"Elder Norris," she said.

"It's Captain, now," he corrected.

"Congratulations," she grumbled.

"I need you to give me your hand," he said.

"What for?"

"Quinan, this is not the time nor place to ask those type of questions. So can you please give me your hand?" he sighed.

"Don't call me that, and sure, as soon as you tell me about the need for the urgency."

The Captain huffed before he sat on his heels. His sword scraped against the tile as he bent forward and said in a low voice, "My men and I are not here on official business. High Leader Marcial sent us, and he emphasized discretion. No one else knows we are here, and I would like to keep it that way. There are other archangels in town, others who are on the opposite side of this discord, and I have too little men to try and fight my way out of here. Now, give me your hand."

Alarms went off in her head, and Quinn hissed sharply, "What do you mean there are other archangels down here?"

He grabbed her hand instead of answering, and Quinn only had a few moments to get a good grip before he and his men shot up through the roof. She looked down, seeing the roof still intact, and wondered how they managed to leave without causing not even a little of destruction. They floated briefly above the house, and Quinn was so disoriented that she missed the nearly invisible barrier around the house fall. Her dizziness grew to the point she had to close her eyes to stop her head from spinning, and as they picked up speed, she lost her fight with consciousness.

Unfortunately, with everyone distracted by Quinn's departure, they were unprepared for the ambush heading their way.

* * *

When Quinn opened her eyes, there was a familiar but unwanted face staring at her, and she groaned.

"I thought Elder Norris was kidding about you," she sighed.

High Leader Marcial sat down on a nearby chair and crossed his legs. "I do believe he goes by Captain now," he said.

"So he said." Quinn lifted up her arms, tugging at the chains, and asked, "Are these necessary?"

"You have a known affiliation with a demon. I put the cuffs on for my safety."

"First, my relationship-

"That sounds intimate."

Quinn growled at the interruption but continued, "My relationship with Santana has nothing to do with you or any of the High Leaders. At least it shouldn't. With that said, why am I here?"

The High Leader rubbed the base of his jaw and said, "I received a letter from someone named Brittany, and you were the main subject."

Quinn tensed and clenched her jaw.

"Ah, so you know her then."

"She was a friend."

"Was?" he repeated.

"Yeah, was," she mumbled.

"My condolences."

"Whatever. What did the letter say?"

"Your friend told me, in no uncertain terms, that I was to come clean about my role in your childhood."

"Meaning?"

Marcial stood up and undid her cuffs. While she rubbed her wrists, he crooked his finger and said, "Follow me."

Quinn got up and walked behind the High Leader. They went down the hall, passing the Council room, and he led her into his chambers.

"My office, as private as it might be, does not have the same security as this room. I did not want to have this conversation at the risk of someone overhearing us."

"Understood."

"Would you like a drink?" he asked.

"A drink of what?" she asked warily.

He grinned and waved his hand over his desk. A drawer popped out, and he pulled out a half-empty bottle of scotch. He also pulled out two glasses and poured a generous amount in each.

"I thought High Leaders-

"After this conversation, it would not matter what I do. Might as well start early."

Wondering what he meant by that, Quinn took the drink and sat down. "So, about this letter..." she trailed off expectantly.

Marcial took a long sip and perched on the edge of his desk. He said, "There are misconceptions about you that I have worked hard to keep under wraps. Everything went well until I discovered you ended up in the care of the wrong people."

Quinn choked on her drink. "Come again? Wrong people? What does that mean?"

"Those two are not your parents. I made a bad decision in my younger years, one I regret immensely, but I foolishly convinced myself to follow it to the end. However, I did not anticipate the end being you sitting here in front of me, exiled and abandoned by the people that swore to love you," he said. He took another sip before he added in a low voice, "Including me."

"You? Why would you care about me?"

"Becuase a father should always care for and love his child."

"What?"

"In short, when I was nothing but a runner for Councilman Simon, I was dating this other angel. We were in love, but we fell to temptation and the week after, she came to me and said she was pregnant. I helped her go into hiding, and visited when I could. On the day our child was born, I was allowed to elevate to an Assistant Elder, and that meant I had to-

"Take a solemn vow to live a life of purity," Quinn finished.

Marcial smiled thinly and said, "Exactly. My beloved went into labor. We locked ourselves in this abandoned chapel. Fortunately for me, I was able to watch my child, my daughter, come into this world and take her first breath, but unfortunately for me, I also witnessed the woman I loved most take her last breath. I mourned and rejoiced at the same time. I held my daughter, and I looked into her eyes. I knew I could not keep her."

"So you sent her away?"

"I did. She was supposed to go to Elder Harrold and his wife, a good family who agreed to let me see her from time to time, but somehow," he sighed and shook his head, "somehow she ended up with that self-righteous prick Russell and his oh so docile wife."

Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes.

"What was her name?"

"Her mother named her Quinan, but I understand she goes by another name now. But I have always known her as Quinan."

She tightened her grip on the glass. Her anger flared, and she asked, "Do you know what Russell did to me?"

"Not until you were gone," he said softly.

She snorted derisively and took another sip of her drink.

"Of course you didn't. Everybody always cooed over me, thought it was cute I had on the nice, respectable dresses and shirts, covering my skin. They loved how obedient I was, how honorable I acted, but out of everyone in this damn place, no one bothered to ask why I always flinched when people hugged me. I was taught to be seen and not heard, quiet, and a child of respect. I had to stay with Momma all the time, couldn't run off and play, and if I dared do something he didn't like, he took the rod and acted according to his rights as a father. I had no friends unless he approved of them, and when he found out Cas and I were close, he beat me until I couldn't stand and told me no daughter of his was going to spread her legs for any guy that looked her way. By the age of fifteen, I was an immoral slut in his mind, and he never let me forget it," she said.

"I am-

"Everything that ever happened to me happened because of you," she snapped. "You did this to me. You, my supposed father, gave me away, and I ended up with an abusive bastard parading around behind his title. So you will have to excuse me if I'm not running into your arms and calling you Daddy just because you decided to grow a pair and tell me the damn truth."

Marcial winced but said nothing. Quinn knew she was setting off all kinds of alarms with her language, but she didn't care. What were they going to do? Exile her?

They sat in silence, but the more she thought about it, the angrier she became.

"You ruined my life."

He said nothing.

"You let me think my parents hated me for my entire life."

Once again, he remained silent.

She jumped up and threw her glass at his head. She missed, but the satisfaction at the broken glass made her feel better.

"Say something!" she shouted.

"Quinan-

"No! My name is Quinn, not Quinan," she cut in. She sniffed and ran a hand through her hair. "Take me back. I don't want to be here anymore. I want to go home, to my real family, to the people who stood by me through it all and didn't toss me out like trash. I want, I want-

Her voice cracked, and she covered her mouth as she broke down in tears. Why did Brittany have to screw her over one last time? Why couldn't she just let things be? Quinn hadn't realized she was on the floor until strong arms wrapped around her.

"Oh, my beautiful girl, I am sorry. I know there is nothing I can do to make this up to you. I should have never let it get this far. "I will do whatever you want me to do. If you want me to take you home and never contact you again, it will hurt, but I will do it. If you want me to return with you, I will do that as well. Just tell me what you need, and I will do it."

Quinn pulled back and blinked at him. She sniffed and swiped at her face. "Did you just say you would come back with me?" she asked.

"Yes."

She narrowed her eyes. "You would Fall? For me, for someone, you barely know?"

He nodded. "I made a mistake letting you go as a baby, but I cannot - will not - do it again. I would rather be a Fallen with you and get to know you than continue to be a High Leader without you and never make up for the years we lost as a family."


	24. Chapter 24

Santana was thankful no one was seriously injured. Outside of Artie's chair, there were no casualties on their end. While everyone else straightened up, Santana studied the last of the attackers. Mercedes had a black eye and a busted lip. Emma, on the other hand, was out like a light. However, what held her attention was the fact it all seemed too easy. There was something off about the entire experience. It lasted no more than twenty minutes, and that was a generous estimation. It appeared rushed, sloppy, and Santana was wary of relaxing. She leaned her head back against the wall, chewing on her bottom lip, and took a moment to determine whether her feelings came from adrenaline or instinct. The bodies piled in the corner looked like puppets cut from their strings.

Why did it feel like there was something else going on?

"You are making my stomach do somersaults. What's wrong? I can feel your anxiety all the way across the room."

Santana held out her hand for Rachel and pulled her close. She brushed her lips against her ear, giving the impression their interaction was more intimate than she was intending, and she whispered, "I do not think this is the end."

Rachel shuddered a bit, but played along and draped her arms over Santana's shoulders. "What makes you think that?" she whispered back.

"Because we are still alive."

"Are you sure this isn't you overthinking it?"

"No, I sincerely believe-

Santana's words cut off when an arrow shattered the window and embedded itself deep in Mercedes's chest. Mercedes keeled backward, and her head made a sickening sound as it caught the edge of the coffee table. There was no doubt in anyone's mind she was dead. Jennifer screamed when another arrow came through and sliced through Artie's shoulder. Everyone dropped to the floor as more arrows flew in, Simon dragging Artie down on the floor with him, but with Rachel and Santana out the line of fire, they stayed where they were. Emma, who was still asleep, remained sprawled across the floor, and Santana assumed had their archer been able to see her, they would have killed her too.

"Simon!" Tina shouted. "That's Holy Oil!"

Rachel held Santana back when she tried to get to her brother, and Rachel warned her she would get hit with the same thing if she walked in front of the window. Knowing Rachel was right, Santana stayed in her spot but watched her brother closely. The gold liquid oozed from the shaft, and the only people who gagged from the smell were Simon and Santana. Her brother gently moved Artie to the side, but unfortunately, the oil burnt through his shirt. He ripped it off without a second thought, and he scrambled over to where Rachel and Santana stood, keeping his body beneath the window. When he got close enough, he punched the floor in frustration and pain. Santana twitched as she stared down at him, the burns on his chest spreading down to his stomach, and she ran a hand through her hair. She couldn't touch him, not yet, not until Tina got a hold of him, and she weighed her options. She saw Mike hiding behind the couch, and she figured he was her best choice.

"Mike!" she called out. "I think it's time you put your money where your mouth is and show me what you can do with this wind magic of yours!"

"You want them hurt or dead?" he asked.

"My brother is lying on the floor next to me in excruciating pain," she snapped. "What do you think?"

Mike nodded. He took a deep breath, jumped up, and when the next arrow came in, he thrust his arms forward, and the sudden burst of wind blew out the rest of the windows. Mike then blew out most of the wall. With their line of sight widened, Santana yelled at Tina to move Emma away from the couch. The witch gave her a look, but she snatched the back of Emma's shirt and dragged her to the side just as an arrow landed right where she was lying.

"I can slow the burns down on Simon," Rachel said.

"Do it. Do whatever you can to make sure those burns don't go any deeper."

Rachel gave a shape nod and knelt beside Simon. Santana kept one eye on Mike, one eye on Rachel, and when she saw the thin sheet of ice covering her brother's chest, she relaxed only a little. Rachel stood back up, and Santana slid her hand into hers. Santana kissed Rachel on the corner of her mouth as a thank you, but her attention shifted when the house started to shake. She turned, and that's when she noticed Mike. He floated above the floor, and he slowly lifted his arms above his head. Santana saw something in her peripheral, but it was Rachel who made her look outside.

"Fucking show off," Rachel grumbled.

Santana heard the annoyance but made a mental note to ask later. Mike used the wind to lift two trees from their roots. They hovered in the air for a moment, and then Mike swung his arms back down to his side. One tree snapped in one direction, while the other went in the opposite, and Santana only knew Mike was successful in whatever he was achieving because of the four bodies that crash-landed in the backyard.

Mike lowered himself back to the floor and slumped forward. Santana thought he was going to fall, but he merely shook it off and gave Santana a crooked smile.

"Was that good enough for you, your Highness?" he asked cockily.

She nodded in silence, mostly because she was confused at his change in attitude, but she was too late to realize he took her silence the wrong way.

He then looked directly at Rachel and said, "Next time, maybe you can show something other than a few magic tricks."

"Be very careful," Rachel growled. "I would hate for you to wake up one morning with your blood frozen beneath your skin."

The two of them shared a look, and Mike clenched his jaw before he sauntered over to help Artie off the floor.

Santana frowned at the interaction and asked Rachel, "What was that about?"

"I thought we moved past our prejudice, but I guess we haven't. I planned on telling you, but once we started to interact, I didn't think it was necessary. The truth is, from a personal standpoint, Mike and I get along fine, but when it comes to our powers, well, we don't exactly see eye to eye."

"I see. Is that going to be a problem?"

"No. Mike will do his thing when required, I will do mine, but beyond that, I can't promise we won't have our episodes."

"I thought you two were hitting it off. Mike seemed concerned when Mercedes kidnapped you."

"There were other things to consider, and we hadn't been around each other in situations like this. I will admit Mike just pulled off something amazing, something I can't duplicate, but," Rachel paused, and Santana saw her eyes darken, "while he can lift trees, I can move oceans, and I hope never to have to show him how deadly water can be."

Santana hated how her body reacted to hearing Rachel sound that way, and she pretended not to see Rachel shoot her a knowing smirk before walking off.

"Is it wrong I want them to fight?" she said, staring at Rachel's ass the entire way.

"Yes, and please stop being a pervert."

Santana rolled her eyes and kneeled down next to her brother.

"Guess Holy Oil seems to like you," she said.

"Clearly." He jerked his head at Rachel. "You think that's going to be a problem?" he asked.

"Rachel said no, but I know for sure it will be a problem soon."

"I agree. I can see why the two of them have this little conflict. Think of it this way: Air gives life to Fire, and Water gives life to the Earth. Fire snuffs out Water, and the Earth impedes the Air. However, I would still put my money on Rachel. Not because of her connection to you, but because at the end of the day, there is water in everything. Rachel is the most powerful, and if they continue down this path, I would hate for Mike to be the target of her anger. I kind of like him, but there can only be one arrogant asshole of the bunch, and you wear the title proudly."

"First, thank you for your kind words, I truly appreciate them," she murmured. "Second, I hate that you are right. We do not have time for them to have this right now."

"For now, I don't think it will be a problem. I think it might work in our favor. Two Elementals trying to show each other up in battle? It might be a good thing. It's a healthy competition. If it gets out of hand, then I know you'll take care of it."

Santana hummed and patted him on the non-burnt parts of his chest. "You rest for a bit while I go talk to some angels," she said.

Simon grunted, and she made her way over to the massive hole in the wall. She instructed the others to stay behind and when she got back, that they would head somewhere safe.

"If you're talking about your house, I hate to break it to you, but your house is not the safest place in town," Tina snorted.

"It is when I'm in it," Santana said cheekily.

Tina rolled her eyes but said nothing else. Santana waited to see if anyone else had anything to say, when they didn't, she also told them to keep an eye on Emma.

"If she wakes up, knock her back out again."

"With magic or-

"Brute force should work perfectly," Santana said, interrupting Mike. "I want her in pain, alive, but hurting."

"Whatever you say, your Highness. Holler if you need me. I think I've proven I can be of great assistance in your time of need," he paused and added, "More than others."

Tina, Artie, and even Jennifer bristled, and Santana saw Rachel tense at his comment. Not knowing where Mike got the idea his power display gave him the upper-hand, she decided to rectify things at that moment. The angels could wait a little longer. She narrowed her eyes and walked right up to him and watched that cockiness fade right out of his system.

"Let me make something clear to you, Wind Boy," she growled, poking him in the chest. "I admit you have done a few things above and beyond my expectations since we started down this road, but you did not jump to the top of my list because of it. You did what I asked, I appreciate that, but if you ever say something like that again, I will make sure you never see the light of day again. Have I made myself clear?"

Mike swallowed roughly, and stammered, "Y-yes. I understand."

Santana smiled sweetly and released her grip. "Wonderful. Now if you excuse me, I have to talk to an angel about an arrow."

She stomped down the stairs to where the angels fell and found only one remaining. Taking her time, she ran her fingers through his long blond hair and tugged. The angel screamed, and she continued to pull until he was out of his hole. He stumbled to his feet, putting weight on his left side, and Santana released him knowing the bones protruding from his right leg kept him from doing much of anything.

"Princess," he spat.

"I think the correct title now is Queen, but we will keep that between you and me," she replied coolly.

"You are no Queen."

"Maybe, maybe not, but you cannot say that for sure can you? Who sent you?"

"My Master."

"How archaic," Santana drawled. "Who is your master, Igor?"

"Someone who will wipe humankind off the face of this planet. The human race is a burden, and I shall never serve a group of selfish, vindictive slaves of their own creating."

Santana shrugged and said, "I agree with you on the human thing. I despise them just as much as you."

"Then why are you trying to save them?"

"Because I would rather put up with humanity for the rest of my life knowing they will all die off eventually than spend one more fucking century with Solomon."

"You know I serve your brother?"

"Duh. Trust me. Only Solomon would have people calling him 'Master,' the narcissistic bastard. Plus, your word-for-word description of the human race told me all I needed to know. Solomon said those exact words to me not too long ago, but with a lot more foaming at the mouth."

"You are saving the entire human race because you hate your brother?" the angel asked. "That is-

"I never said I would save all of them," she interrupted. She leaned forward and lowered her voice as she said, "Yes, many more would live should I come out of this alive, but that does not mean I will not kill a few million to make a point. I have had my fair share of trouble with the human race, and honestly, they will be much better off with several million less than what they have now. I have watched them kill themselves for various reasons over the past millennia, and I anticipate giving them a taste of their own medicine in the very near future."

Santana pushed the angel on the ground and straddled his lap. She wrapped her hands around his face and jaw. He tried to buck her off, but Santana had a lot of practice in the position. More than she cared to admit.

"Wait, please," he begged. "I have a family."

"So do I," she deadpanned. "But you tried to kill them not even five minutes ago."

"I am only following orders."

"Good, so follow this one: lie still and take a deep breath."

Someone chuckled, and the sound caused her to look up. Solomon stepped out, but she noticed he stayed low to the ground, at eye level with her.

"What are you waiting for?" he goaded. "Kill him."

Santana thought about letting the angel live to spite her brother, but it would end up biting her in the ass later on down the line. She sighed and stared directly into Solomon's eyes as she snapped the angel's neck and ripped the head from the shoulders. Her brother clapped slowly and grinned with bloodstained fangs.

"I admit I am impressed, sister. I like the idea of beheading him, less chance of a necromancer getting his hands on the body."

"I am glad it was to your liking," she said sarcastically, not moving from her spot.

"Indeed. I will say you have gotten increasingly more violent since we last saw one another."

"I have had a long time to channel my rage into something more productive."

"Maybe you should try it on someone more up to your speed. What do you say? How about a one-on-one, just me and you? For old time's sake, of course."

"Not a chance."

"Scared?"

"Of you?" Santana's fangs dropped, and her claws dug into the angel beneath her. "Never," she hissed.

Solomon hunched forward like an animal about to strike. "Then what are you waiting for?" he taunted. "Fight me. Right here, right now. Show your little friends just how dangerous their little demon can be."

Santana thought about Rachel, about her mother, and she forced herself to stay in place. "No," she gritted out.

Solomon's eyes turned black, and he laughed. "Where is the sister who used to skin men alive without a second thought? Where is the sister who once ripped a rib from a man's chest and then stabbed him in the heart with it?"

"You will see her in time."

"If you say so, but I do have a question. How do you plan on keeping Maria safe? Or Tina? What about Simon, our soon-to-be human brother? What about Jennifer or Artie, Quinn? Tell me, how do you plan on keeping them safe? After all, you promised Celeste you would keep her safe, and look what happened to her. And not to mention poor little Isidora. Surely you would not want Rachel to meet the same fate."

Ignoring the fact he didn't mention Mike, Santana bared her teeth in warning, on the verge of snapping, but Solomon merely grinned and shook his head.

"That heart of yours will get you killed one day," he teased. "And I hope I am the one who finally rips it from your chest."

Solomon gave her one last look before vanishing into the shadows, leaving nothing the smell of sulfur in his wake, and it took a long time for Santana to calm down enough to focus. She stood up, absentmindedly incinerating both the head and the body of the angel, and when the ashes drifted off in the wind, she let out a blood-curdling roar. Vibrating with anger, Santana tapped into the connection she shared with Quinn. It was a well-kept secret, one not even Tina knew about, and Santana figured the best time to call out for her best friend would be when her homicidal brother was within walking distance.

 _I need you._

* * *

Quinn jumped out of her seat, her second glass dropping to the floor, and she said to Marcial, "Take me home."

He asked if everything was alright, but she was too busy trying to get outside. As she nearly sprinted down the hall, Marcial caught up with her.

"What is it?" he asked. "Please, tell me."

"I can't," Quinn said. "I did something very illegal a long time ago, something that will have consequences that go beyond being exiled or branded. I can only tell you something is wrong, and I have to get back."

"Fine, but I am staying down there with you. I want to help in any way that I can."

Quinn glanced at the taller man. "You were serious about that?" she asked.

"Of course. I meant every word. If you want to go home, you can, but I am staying with you. Plus, this sounds serious."

"It is," Quinn admitted. "The warning would have never come if it wasn't."

"Very well. Then it is settled."

Once they got outside, Marcial held out his hand and told Quinn to take it. She looked at it and weighed her options. If he wanted to kill her, Quinn would be dead. If he were lying, he would have turned her over the moment she left his office. She bit her bottom lip and shuffled side to side. She was wasting time thinking about it, but she knew if it all went to Hell, she had a demon who would more than willingly take care of the problem. Quinn grabbed his hand and bit down on the inside of her cheek when they shot into the air. She loved to fly, but at her speed. The other angels went too fast, and Quinn was horrified to note that the descent was much worse than the ascent.


	25. Chapter 25

***sigh* This was not the chapter I intended. My muse ran away from me, and I never caught it until the end.**

 **But still, mistakes are mine.**

* * *

Her house, as large as it might have been, suffocated her the moment they reached the driveway. She was struggling to find her center, and it took a lot out of her keeping it hidden from the others. Rachel and Simon both knew something was off, based on the looks they shot her way, but she continued to pretend she was okay. But seeing the house reminded her of the cage she'd put herself in, acting like something she wasn't. Deep down, Santana knew it was Solomon's words having an impact on her state of mind. She pushed down her doubts when her mother entered the house, and Santana remained on edge until her mother was safely over the threshold. Jennifer went next, then Mike with Artie on his back, and Tina right behind them. Rachel went after, and Simon went before her carrying Emma. But the moment Santana stepped inside, seeing the familiar black and red paint on the wall with various pictures of her throughout the years scattered across the foyer made her nauseous, and she froze. Simon called out to her, asking if she was alright, and she quickly backed onto the porch.

"I need a sec," she said.

He gave a short nod, and over his shoulder, she saw Rachel standing in the hall, watching. Santana smiled to reassure her everything was alright. Rachel snorted, evidently not believing her, but walked off to find the others after Simon leaned over and whispered something in her ear. Her brother then gave Santana a long look, and she tried hard to keep her feelings at bay.

However, she knew she'd failed when Simon clenched his jaw, looking as if he wanted to say something, but instead, he turned and followed in the direction of the others. Santana sighed as the sounds of pots and pans echoed into the hall, and she shut the door behind her as she made her way down the stairs. Turning around at the feeling of someone watching, Santana saw Rachel standing at the window. Something crawled along the back of her mind, and though she had no idea what it was, part of her knew it had something to do with whatever Brittany did. When she had a better hold on herself, Santana was going to have to sit with Tina and figure out what the hell the ceremony did because although she was taking things in stride, Santana had questions, and concerns, about what all Rachel could sense.

Rachel moved away from the window, and Santana took that opportunity to walk further into the woods behind her house. Once she made it to her Pit, she stripped down to her underwear and closed the door as she sat cross-legged in the middle of the shelter. Taking a deep breath, Santana began to meditate, but the barrier that kept her emotions at bay cracked, causing her to release everything she'd been holding in.

She cried for Brittany, for losing someone she wanted to start over with, and for someone she loved.

She cried for Mercedes, someone she thought was her friend.

She lost the fragile hold on her sanity and screamed out, angry at herself for allowing Solomon to affect her so profoundly, and angry at Solomon for knowing what buttons to push to garner a reaction.

So lost in her head, she missed the door to the Pit swinging open, and she was only aware of another person when a coldness spread through her body. Her eyes popped open, and she saw Rachel sitting on her lap.

"What-

"Shut up," Rachel interrupted.

"But-

Rachel cut her off by placing her hand over Santana's mouth and then adjusted her position she that she was straddling Santana's waist. "I said, shut up. Now, listen to me very carefully. I will remove my hand, but if you so much as look like you are about to say something, I will freeze your lips together with ice so cold, not even you can melt it. Nod if you understand," she said.

Santana narrowed her eyes but gave a slow nod. She still had tears streaming down her cheeks, and after Rachel removed her hand, she used her thumbs to wipe them away.

"You stupid, stupid demon," she whispered. "Why do you have to make things so complicated? Can't you see I'm here because I want to be, not because I have to be? I'm not here solely because of our bond. I care about you, and need I remind you that before I even knew we had this connection, I was captivated by you? I won't bombard you with words like before, but I will tell you again that I love you, with everything in me."

Rachel wrapped her arms around Santana's neck and put their foreheads together. "And, as insane as this might sound, you aren't doing this alone. You try so hard to keep me out, but you can't anymore, no matter how much you want too. I could tell the minute we got here that you were going to run, and, yes, I let you have your moment, but for fuck's sake, enough of this. You're trying so hard to be something you're not, trying to show people that not all demons are the same, but you are no ordinary demon. You are the firstborn of Lucifer, you have his blood flowing through your veins, and if I'm honest, you have his temper. When I saw you with that angel, I felt you. I felt your heart, the excitement that coursed through you, and I knew then and there that you miss it. And don't try to deny it. You miss being a demon, a real one, one that causes chaos and mayhem and discord. I know how much you enjoyed it when you were younger, and you lost it along the way. Well, I'm here to tell you that you can find it again, as long as you accept that you are who you are.

"Stop fighting it because you think it will make you no better than your brother. You and your brother are Kin, so of course, you two have similar mannerisms. What you should concern yourself with is the meaning behind your actions. You are fighting to save this world, albeit reluctantly, but you are fighting to keep the people you love safe. If you break a few necks and spill a little blood while you do so, no one is going to hold it against you. That's who you are, and I know for a fact that Maria, Simon, Tina, and Quinn will always love you. Jennifer and Artie are new, but I'm sure they will grow to love you like everyone else. I can't speak for Mike, or rather I refuse to speak for him, but I'm sure he feels some kind of way about you."

Santana snorted at the last part, but she started to cry again once Rachel's words registered.

"Oh, baby." Rachel kissed the tears that escaped and sighed. "I meant what I said. I love you, so very much, and that won't change because you might be a tad bit sadistic. Or, a lot a bit sadistic, but honestly, you have spent far too long trying to be someone you aren't, and I'm tired of watching you work yourself into a breakdown. Let it go, let the comments and the snide remarks and the looks go. Stop worrying about the town will say, what the witches and the Hunters will do once you start embracing your heritage. You have me, you have Simon, and you have Quinn. Tina too, on occasion. We follow you, and we got your back. Okay? So, enough of this. Get your shit together and stop the fucking crying."

Santana scowled, but there was no real malice behind it. Everything Rachel said was right, and she knew she was an overly emotional wreck over things she honestly had no control over. Shaking her head, she kissed Rachel's cheek and said, "As right as you might be, we need to work on your motivational speeches."

"Why? Shouldn't need another one after this," Rachel said cheekily.

Santana rolled her eyes. "Whatever. How did you know I was-

"Having a breakdown?" Rachel guessed. When she nodded, Rachel laughed and said, "For lack of the right words, it was like I was down here with you. I heard, saw, and felt it all."

Santana hummed. "Interesting, but terrible speech aside, thank you," she said. "I promise to stop being so human-like and take advantage of the fact I'm pretty much a badass demon. Deal?"

"Sure, though I never called you a badass."

"You think I'm soft?"

"You are soft, but in all the right places."

"Mmm, how so?"

Rachel pushed at Santana until she was on the floor. Completely ignoring the fact they were lying in ashes, she couldn't focus on much else other than the body on top of her.

"Can I be honest?" Rachel asked.

"Yes, please."

"I may have overdramatized your breakdown in hopes of buying more time alone. Plus, I seem to recall that not too long ago, we were cut off in the middle of something extremely important."

"I see. And where exactly did we leave off?"

Rachel's eyes darkened until they were almost black and she intertwined their hands. She stretched out, forcing Santana's arms up and over her head, and she smiled. "I'm not sure, but I know for a fact there was a lot less talking," she said.

Santana captured Rachel's lips with her own, and within seconds, Rachel's grip had loosened enough that Santana could lower her arms and flip them over. Rachel grunted at the sudden move, but whatever response she had prepared turned into a light moan when Santana began to pepper kisses down the base of her neck. Rachel's fingers tangled in her hair, keeping her in place, and when Rachel said please, Santana instinctively knew what the other girl wanted. She bit down hard on the cold skin, drawing blood, and then she soothed the pain with her tongue when she finished. Rachel moaned again, and Santana's stomach clenched at the sound, but she knew they had to stop before they got too carried away. She kissed the mark she left behind and took a deep breath as she tried to get the right words.

Unfortunately, somehow Rachel knew what she was about to say, and she jerked up her knee. Santana hissed when Rachel's knee hit her clit, and she told Rachel to lift her arms and keep them up. When she was sure Rachel would stay still, Santana reached between them and slid her hand inside of Rachel's pants. The warmth radiating from her core contrasted with the iciness of her skin, but it didn't matter.

Santana kissed the outer shell of Rachel's ear before she whispered, "You and I both know someone will come looking for us eventually. And as much as I would love to just," Santana paused and started to slowly rub Rachel's clit, "continue this with you, I would rather not do so at the risk of being interrupted."

Rachel clenched her fists but kept her arms above her head. Santana grinned evilly and moved Rachel's panties to the side.

"I am, however, curious to know what will happen when I do this," she murmured, just before she bit down on Rachel's earlobe and ran her finger through Rachel's soaking wet pussy.

Rachel arched up and said something incomprehensible, and Santana's eyes rolled to the back of her head. She realized how hard it was not to fuck Rachel then and there. In hindsight, she shouldn't have tried to tease, because it backfired spectacularly, and it took sheer willpower to remove her hand. Of course, with her finger dripping wet, she naturally wrapped her lips around it and sucked it clean. Rachel tasted exactly as she smelled, like cinnamon, vanilla, and honey mixed with something so primal and raw that Santana had to stand on the other side of the Pit to catch her breath.

"Oh fuck that was a bad idea," she groaned.

"Was it? I think the opposite."

Rachel's voice, raspy and deepened by lust, slithered down Santana's spine and she attempted to think of anything non-Rachel related. Thankfully, depending on how you look at it, a distraction came in the form of a blonde haired, golden-eyed angel with irritation written all over her face as she climbed down into the Pit, oblivious of the tension.

"Seriously? I am having the worst day of my life, and you two snuck away for a quickie? Shame."

Okay, maybe not so oblivious.

"Hi, Quinn," Santana sighed.

"Honestly, you call for me, and then when I get here, you are nowhere to be found!" she huffed.

"I called for you nearly an hour ago," Santana pointed out. "I thought you were busy."

"No, I've been having the worst day of my life, as I have said." Quinn frowned and looked around. "Wait, were you two seriously having sex?" she asked.

"No," Santana grumbled.

"You sure? Because Rachel looks like she's about to combust."

"We were just talking," she lied.

"Liar," Quinn said, narrowing her eyes at the two of them. "But fine. What are you guys doing here anyway?"

"We were just talking like I said."

"Or, maybe you had an emotional breakdown, and Rachel was your knight in shining armor."

"If you knew why did you ask?"

"I just wanted to see if you would tell me the truth or not."

"Oh what a joy it is to have you back," Rachel muttered, slowly standing up.

Santana could still smell Rachel's arousal, and she forced herself to stay by Quinn.

"Wow, you two are so frustrated it's not even funny."

Santana growled, and Quinn waved her off.

"Get over it. It was my turn to cockblock you two anyway. You can't have sex when we have bigger problems at hand."

Santana scoffed and stretched to loosen the tension in her body, and she noticed Rachel and Quinn share a look. Santana waited for one, or both, to tell her what they were silently communicating. Apparently, they decided on Quinn. The angel flushed and gestured at Santana.

"Uh," she cleared her throat before she continued, "You've definitely gained weight in all the right places."

Santana lifted an eyebrow. "Really?" she deadpanned.

"In my defense, it didn't click that you were in your underwear until now!"

"You've seen it all before, remember?"

"Well, excuse me for not wanting to remind your betrothed that you and I had sex," Quinn snapped.

Santana's automatic response died on her lips as she stared at Quinn in shock. "What did you just say?" she croaked out.

"What? That I didn't want to remind Rachel that you and I had sex?"

"No, not that," Santana said quickly. "You called Rachel my betrothed."

Quinn winced and scratched the back of her neck. "I did? That was a slip-up. Tina warned me not to mention it, but, oops?" she said sheepishly.

"Who else knows?" Santana asked, staring only at Quinn, so she didn't have to see Rachel's reaction to the conversation.

"Outside of Tina? Um, your Mom, Simon, Jennifer, Artie, Mike, and," Quinn coughed, "my father," she added under her breath.

A weird noise bubbled in her throat, something close to a whine, and Santana climbed out. She grabbed her clothes and slipped them on before she stalked her way back to her house. She didn't care at the moment if Rachel or Quinn was behind her. She had a witch to converse with, and-

"Wait," Santana stopped and spun to see Quinn right on her heels. "Did you just say your father?" she asked.

"Yeah, it's a long story."

"It better be a damn good one if he's here with you."

"Oh, it is. And it also requires a shit ton of liquor because when you realize who my father is, you're going to wish you weren't sober enough for the conversation. Trust me."

"But I already know who your father is," Santana pointed out.

Quinn chuckled humorlessly and said, "Yeah, I thought that too."

Santana pinched the bridge of her nose and exhaled.

When the hell did her life become a soap opera?


	26. Chapter 26

**A Soap Opera indeed.**

 **All mistakes are mine**.

* * *

The moment they entered the house, Rachel knew something was wrong. She scowled when Santana and Quinn continued whispering under their breaths, so lost in their conversation that they missed the tension practically suffocating the entire foyer. Rachel ignored them though, choosing to prepare herself for whatever was waiting in the kitchen where they'd left the others, and based on Quinn's earlier statement, with another angel. Simon had patience around Quinn because he knew of her relationship with Santana, but an angel not named Quinn might cause trouble, and Rachel hoped they weren't walking into a bloodbath. She poked her head in the kitchen and yelped as she was pulled in by her shirt.

"Oh, thank God!" Tina exclaimed. "You need to break it up!"

"Break what-

Rachel saw something in the corner of her eye and barely ducked the plate that crashed into the wall above her. Her head snapped to where Simon was hunched on the ground like a wild animal, growling and roaring at Maria and Jennifer, who were throwing random things at him to keep him at bay. Behind them, warily staring at the primal demon, was who Rachel assumed to be Quinn's father.

He looked just like her if the eyes were any indication.

"SIMON, ENOUGH!"

Jennifer and Maria stopped throwing items, Rachel and Tina flinched, and the demon on the ground twitched. The room got deathly silent, and Santana brushed past Rachel as she came further into the kitchen. Santana had no fear approaching her brother, and she grabbed him by the back of his neck. There was a cracking sound, grunting, but because they moved faster than anyone else could see, the result was Simon lying on the island stomach down, Santana's knees in his back, and both hands holding onto arms twisted backward.

"I. SAID. ENOUGH!" she ordered.

Santana huffed before she lifted her brother up slightly, then slammed him down. His face made a weird noise when it hit the counter, like a rock hitting rock, and when he lifted his head, Simon's nose was broken, and Rachel couldn't help but wonder if that was how they fought as children.

"You dare let him stand in our presence alive!" Simon spat nasally, blood streaming down his face. "He-

"I know," Santana cut him off. She then looked up and glared at Quinn. "And I can assure you there is an explanation as to why the General Commander of the Archangels stands in my kitchen, in full armor, carrying the same sword that nearly killed our father a millennia ago."

Quinn swallowed loud enough for the whole room to hear, and she stammered, "That's what I was tr-trying to tell you outside. He's m-my father."

"Then you'll die with him!" Simon roared.

Santana looked torn, fighting her instinct to release her brother or stop him from doing something that would hurt Quinn, and Rachel took matters into her own hands. She calmly crossed the kitchen, pushed aside Maria and Jennifer, and crooked her finger at the angel. He bent down, confused, and she leaned forward to whisper in his ear.

"This is the right time to prove you are not going to harm anyone in this house. That is your daughter, that is her best friend, and that is her best friend's brother. The only reason the Princess hasn't let him go is that she cares too much for Quinn to allow him to kill you in cold blood. You better have a damn good reason for coming here dressed like this, knowing who you were going to see, and you better make sure you answer every question with the utmost honesty. Now take off the armor, sit your ass down and explain what the hell is going on."

Rachel leaned back, and the angel quickly did as she said. He sighed and ran a hand over his face before resting his elbows on his knees.

"The truth is I am High Leader Marcial, General Commander of the Archangels. Quinn received a feeling of some sort that there was a danger, and I came down in this out of habit for the unknown threat. When Quinn took so long to return, I reacted out of anger and fear. I just got her back, and I was afraid that I had lost her once more. I apologize, to you, Prince, for my words but I swear on my life and my honor that I am not here to hurt you or your family. I am here only for my daughter, and I let myself get too far ahead without knowing the full story."

"Don't take it personally. We've never liked angels," Santana said coolly.

"You say that, yet you are close to my daughter," Marcial pointed out.

"She's a Fallen, her angel status is tainted, and it's not that obvious."

"What do you mean? She has her status back, and then some."

Santana frowned and turned to look at Quinn. The former Fallen closed her eyes, and within seconds, her arms lit up with various markings. Rachel was a little too late to realize Santana no longer had a hold on her brother. Everything else happened so fast that Rachel only remembered bits and pieces. She remembered Tina screaming and jumping to the side as Santana leaped from the island and tackled Quinn to the ground, smashing into the table.

Rachel also remembered spinning around and using a burst of water to knock Quinn's father out the kitchen window, down to the backyard and focused on freezing the liquid until he was frozen solid. She knew it wouldn't last long, and she reluctantly asked Mike to keep an eye on him. Maria, Jennifer, Artie, and Tina scrambled to safety near the pantry while Simon and Rachel ran over to where Quinn and Santana landed.

"San, please! It's me! Stop!" Quinn screamed, fighting off the claws aimed for her face. There were already marks going down Quinn's cheek, but it was clear Santana was out for blood.

"I have an idea, but you are not going to like it!" Simon hissed in Rachel's ear.

"Which is?"

"I have to hurt you more than she wants to hurt Quinn."

"What!?" she exclaimed.

"Think about it, Santana will never recover if she killed Quinn in a blind rage. You are the biggest distraction sans knocking her out. We need to distract her or she will kill her and then we will have a mass murdering Archangel on our hands!"

Rachel stomped her foot, on the verge of a tantrum, but she knew it was a good idea. "Dammit! You know she won't hold back, right?" she asked, preparing herself for what was about to happen.

The demon nodded. "Yep. I'll be in a shit ton of pain, but she can't kill me, no matter how much she'll want too. She'll do something quick and then run to check on you."

"Stupid demon, angel, bullshit," Rachel grumbled.

"Agreed."

"You're lucky you're her brother."

"Yeah, well, you're lucky you have regenerative magic."

Rachel bit through her cheek when Simon swung his arm, connecting with her jaw, and he sent her flying out the other window into the front yard. She slammed hard into the concrete face first and bounced back up. Bracing her fall with her left, Rachel used her right hand to draw the water from the grass to give her something to slide on after she'd frozen it. She hit the ground again, softer than before, and when she skidded to a stop, she spat up blood and moaned in pain.

"Fuck," she slurred.

There was more shouting, more glass, and she figured everything would calm down soon enough.

* * *

Quinn rubbed her face where Santana's claws connected and sighed. She hated the four marks going down her right cheek, but it could have been worse. She could've been dead. Out the corner of her eye, Quinn saw Simon repeatedly roll his neck back and forth. The demon complained of a headache, and his nose sat crooked on his face, but other than that, he seemed fine. Least his head was facing the right way again. It was eight p.m., and despite the events of the day, they were all sitting together, drinking expensive whiskey and eating pizza.

"Sorry, Marcial," Simon said first, his voice hoarse due to the damage to his throat. "For trying to kill you."

Quinn's father waved him off and chuckled. "All is well. After today, I will not be testing my luck with any of you," he said.

"Good to know. I've had enough in-house fighting for one day."

Everyone paused when Rachel and Santana appeared in the doorway, and Simon was the first one to speak.

"Rachel, I-

"It's nothing. We talked about it before it happened, and I'm okay. A little disoriented, but okay."

"We had to peel your face off the cement. Wouldn't call that nothing," Jennifer said wryly.

"And I thank you for that, but that's why we have magic and potions and pizza."

Rachel grinned, the left side of her face still bruised, but they could see the three scars going from her left eye down to her chin. It was actually kind of badass, but it took a lot of magic to get them to that point. They were terrified when they saw Rachel roll over with half her face smashed in. Her left shoulder hung from its socket, and she'd broken all of her fingers on her left hand and her left wrist. Her left leg had bruising, but considering she'd landed mostly on the top half of her body, no expected to find her ankles shattered or anything like that. Rachel saw them with her right eye, and attached her shoulder herself, snapped each finger back into place, and did the same for her wrist before asking if someone could help her with her jaw.

No one could believe she'd managed to walk away from the incident, but she did, and once Santana was calm enough to realize Rachel was okay, things started going back to normal. Tina made sure there weren't any other injuries, doing a full inspection, while Maria ordered the pizza, Jennifer grabbed the liquor from the closet, and everyone waited for the couple to come down.

They slept for a while, but Quinn had a feeling that was more of an emotional rest than physical.

"Um, how's your face?" Santana asked softly, looking at Quinn.

There was something in her gaze, something that wasn't entirely guilt but close to it, and Quinn knew Santana was apologizing for leaving a scar, but not for attacking her. Considering it was the best she was going to get, Quinn smiled and took a long sip of her drink.

"Pretty cool. Now Rach and I are twins," she said cheekily.

"As if I needed another reason to dislike you," Rachel murmured.

"Harsh words there coming from you, Scarface," Quinn teased.

Rachel flipped her off, and Santana rolled her eyes. Quinn scooted down to the floor to let them have the couch, and they both kissed her on the cheek as they settled in. The trio would be just fine, especially on Santana and Quinn's end. They'd fought before, on purpose and accident, and Quinn left a few scars of her own. It was the downside to being enemies by genetics and nature. She was an angel again, a full angel, and she knew Santana's gut always told her to go for the angelic one in the bunch, but their love for one another would always outweigh everything else.

* * *

While they laughed and caught up with one another, Marcial trying to develop a relationship with Quinn's family, Mike excused himself with a half-hearted excuse.

But there was someone paying attention to his exit, someone who waited before following after him.

* * *

Emma woke tied to a tree. It was a lovely tree, but it was still a tree. She blinked and tried to get her bearings, but it didn't take long for her to know where she was.

"Have a nice nap?"

"This isn't funny, let me go!"

"Can't do that. You tried to kill me."

"It wasn't you I was after," Emma snapped.

"No matter, but you should know everyone's dead," the person paused and shrugged, "everyone but you."

"Because you need me, right?" she said, trying to figure out a way out of her predicament.

"I did, but you failed. The Princess still lives, and that Ice bitch is still alive as well. And now, we have a bigger problem! The General Commander is in Lima. What do you think will happen when he notices all the rogue archangels still living here?"

Emma flinched and pleaded, "Just let me go, and we can go from there. Please, untie me."

"No, I think I will leave you here to burn, as you rightfully deserve. And don't bother thinking someone will come for you. No one knows where we are, and we are all alone."

"Don't, don't do this!" She whimpered when she smelled the smoke, and she looked down at the flames licking the leaves under her feet. "Mike, please," she begged.

"You had your chance! I have been trying to kill those three for centuries, those self-righteous, arrogant, demons who think they can do whatever they want!" he growled. "I have put up with the Princess's bullshit for years, and the one time you're able to make a deal with her brother, you screw it up. I had them, in the palm of my hands, ready to snap, but you reacted too quickly. Now that demon knows someone is playing both sides, and he's wary of trusting anyone. Because of that, you burn."

Emma cried as the heat grew unbearable, but she couldn't move. She watched Mike's face darken, and he stomped off through the woods. In the distance was her Coven house, but they wouldn't see her until it was too late. She sobbed and prayed for someone, anyone, to help, but it seemed like no one would.

Minutes passed, and her screams were weaker, more hoarse, and Emma was on the verge of passing out. But then the heat vanished, replaced by a bone-chilling cold, and she whimpered in relief. She looked up, ready to thank Mike, but fear took over as she stared at her savior. The hood shielded their face, but she didn't care.

"Tell me everything, and I will grant you peace," the person whispered.

Emma hiccuped before she broke down and came clean. She told the person everything, from the first time Mike approached her, to the last time they spoke before the attack. Emma left nothing out, and when a knife sliced through her stomach, the figure let the hood fall.

"You picked the wrong sibling."

Emma stared incredulously at the woman standing in front of her.

"Tina?" she choked out.

The witch, one of the remaining natural wielders left in the world, smiled grimly and said, "I am not my mother, and I am not my brother. I sure as hell don't follow in my father's footsteps. You taught me to be observant, to pay attention to the little details, and how to hide in plain sight. You told me everything I needed to know about the Princess, but you never expected me to grow to love her. She is my family, now, and I will kill for her, even if it means killing the person that helped raise me."

Emma grunted when Tina twisted the knife and removed it. She then realized Tina only stopped the fire to get what she wanted. As the younger witch walked away, once she was sure there wasn't a chance for Emma to escape or live to see the sunrise, Emma laughed until she was in hysterics.

Once upon a time, she was supposed to live to see Tina take over as a Master, but in the end, she would die before ever seeing that come to fruition. As the knife wound, mixed with the pain from the newly lit fire, spread through her limbs, she closed her eyes and let out one last laugh.

So much for irony.


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N: Idk why, but I hate this chapter.**

 **Anyway, mistakes are mine. Characters are not mine, borrowing them for fun.**

* * *

Tina entered the house hoping to avoid her mother but knew her attempt was fruitless once she felt someone snag the back of her jacket and spin her around.

"Where have you been?"

Tina bristled at the tone.

"I've been worried sick about you! They found your brother on the side of the road, his head nearly cut clean off," her mother said, her voice wavering. "Your brother is dead, Tina, dead. Oh God, my Georgie, why him? My baby, my baby is-

Tina rolled her eyes and exhaled sharply as the woman broke down in tears. When the cries reached a crescendo, Tina bit down through her cheek to keep from yelling. The woman barely knew their birthday's, was never around when they needed her the most, and yet there she was on the floor crying her eyes out over the death of her only son. Tina couldn't believe someone who never bothered to call them anything other than the first name that popped into her head had the nerve to put on such a dramatic display of emotion. It wasn't as if she did anything worth crying over. George raised Tina. He bathed her, fed her, clothed her, helped her with her homework, and protected her from the bullies at school. He was supposed to be her way out, her escape, but as Tina stood there recounting all the things her brother promised, anger bubbled in her chest.

George was destined to be something great, to be one of the best wizards in the country, but he got caught in a web of lies and started changing. He was barely eighteen when Emma and the others got their claws into his magic. She watched him change before her very eyes, saw him become the Coven's token wizard, and it wasn't long before she'd lost her brother for good. And Tina made her peace with it. He was no longer her brother, her best friend, and she soon discovered it was more natural to hate him than to love him.

At least, she thought that was the case. Tina hadn't seen her brother for a while, but that day at the house, her pride and resolve took a big hit when she saw him at the forefront of the ambush. They avoided one another up until they couldn't anymore. But they didn't fight. George dropped to his knees and brandished a knife, the same knife she'd jammed into Emma's chest as retribution for what the Coven did to her brother, and the same knife hidden under her jeans.

In the middle of the chaos, with vampires flying around them and screams echoing throughout the living room, George handed her the knife and begged her to kill him, to end his life, so he didn't live as a traitor to his family. He pleaded and pleaded, putting the blade to his throat while he wrapped her stiff fingers around the hilt.

 _"T, please," he had begged her. "It has to be you. I can't- don't make me go back."_

After that, Tina remembered screaming and dragging the knife across her brother's throat. She remembered watching him bleed out on the floor, remembered running up the stairs to wash him off, and she remembered brushing off Quinn and Santana when they asked if she was alright. Sucks that, as a reward for her mercy kill, she had to deal with the blubbering mess that was her mother.

The stress of Tina's day, combined with the knowledge there was someone on the inside trying to kill three birds with one stone, left her trembling. She'd had enough. Pulling a spell to the forefront of her mind, Tina let it float there for a moment.

"You disgust me," she snarled. "Get up."

Her mother flinched and pouted, but Tina knew the routine. And before, she didn't have much choice when she forgave her, but Tina had no room left in her heart for the type of forgiveness her mother needed.

She wordlessly cast the spell just as she yanked her mother off the ground, "I said, get up!" she snapped.

"What is the matter with you! Your brother is dead!"

"I know! Who do you think killed him?" Tina shouted, getting into her mother's face.

Silence.

The tears stopped flowing, and the worry ebbed out of those stormy grays replaced by raw fury. Tina stepped back, casting another spell as a precaution.

"Surely you don't mean what I think you mean."

"Why? Is it not believable that I could do it? That I could drag the knife across his neck and watch him bleed out at my feet? Surely you know me well enough by now that my temper rivals the best of them. I killed him, mother, but he left me no choice!" Tina hissed. "Your son, your precious Georgie, was there to kill my friends and me."

"You mean," her mother paused and made a face as if she'd tasted something awful, "you killed your flesh and blood because of that- that demon?"

"Two, actually, but also an angel, two humans, and an Elemental if we're getting technical," Tina said sarcastically.

"HOW DARE YOU!" Her mother reared back and slapped her across the face. Tina tasted copper, and she used her sleeve to wipe the blood away. "Get out of my house before I throw you out myself," her mother threatened, practically foaming at the mouth as she glared at Tina.

Tina snorted and moved towards the stairs. "This isn't your house anymore," she said. "Dad signed the house over to someone else, and by someone, I mean me."

"What? He wouldn't do that!"

"Once upon a time, I would say you're right." Tina turned around and leaned against the wall. "But one of his nightcaps may or may not have been laced with one of my poisons. Once it's in his system, you would be amazed at what he agrees too," she said apathetically.

"You poisoned your father?" her mother exclaimed.

"You're focusing on the wrong thing," Tina said in a bored tone.

"I can't believe you! After everything, we've done for you-

"Which was nothing," she interrupted sharply. "I was the one who did everything. Me, not you, not George, and not my father! I was the one who studied, I was the one who worked hard, and I was the one who wanted to be the Master, but you gave all your attention to George once he was old enough! He used to be my best friend before you and Emma got a hold of him! He left me alone for what?! FOR WHAT?! Fucking empty promises of being something he could've been without sacrificing what he believed in! So screw you, you selfish bitch. You did NOTHING for me, and the one person that did is nothing but ashes now. And I regret nothing."

"Ha! You aren't -weren't- worth the time! You think because you can cast a few spells and make a few potions you can be a Master? You align yourself with demons and, honestly, you don't even have your markings yet! Your brother was perfect! He had the looks, the attitude, and the natural magic that you never possessed! I wasn't going to risk missing out on the opportunity."

Tina, though she knew the truth, still felt the hurt tighten in her heart. She had no more tears left to cry, however. There were other things she needed to do, but before she could stop herself, she blurted, "I'm the one Emma wanted! She started training me in secret, helping me, but you kept whispering in her ear. You thought you picked the right child, but you didn't, and now your little Golden Boy is dead, and I'm what's left. And I hope I get the chance to make you pay for everything you've done."

"Why don't you do it now?" her mother taunted, trying to step forward, but she found that she couldn't.

Tina's smile was cold as she wagged her finger. "Ah, ah, ah," she said in a sing-song voice. "You should know by now that I don't have to say a spell to produce it."

"What did you do?"

Tina pursed her lips and placed her hands in her pocket, letting herself enjoy the moment of getting one over on her mother. She did come home for the sole purpose of grabbing clothes and supplies since she didn't know when she would be back. She'd also planned on avoiding her mother as long as possible considering the news about to shake up the witch community, but that didn't work. There was also the fact Tina needed to reach out to an old friend of hers, but the time difference was a bitch.

"HEY! What the hell did you do!"

Blinking slowly, Tina cocked her head and narrowed her eyes. "Surely someone like you can figure it out," she said.

"You aren't capable of casting a barrier spell without me knowing about it. Plus, you never touched me."

"You sure about that? How'd you get off the floor then?"

Her eyes widened, and she walked back and forth testing to see how extensive the barrier went, and Tina watched amusedly. The circle wasn't a big one, as she didn't need a big one to keep her mother in place, but it would last for as long as necessary.

Least long enough for her to grab a few things and get back to Santana's.

"That demon isn't worth your trouble," her mother spat.

"That demon," Tina said. "Saved my sanity, my life, and never made me feel like I was useless. She trusts me, and I trust her. I will do what I can to save her, even if that means killing my flesh and blood for her. Have a nice night, mother."

"Tina! Let me out!"

She gave a salute and jogged up the stairs to her room. She would have to exit through the basement, since that's where most of her stuff was anyway, and she would have to do so quickly. Tina had no idea what Mike would do next, and she didn't want to risk him getting a head start on whatever he had planned.

As she grabbed a few bags, Tina listened to her mother scream and rage and shouted her name, even going as far as to cry and beg for mercy, but Tina had nothing left in her. She'd lost George to empty promises, and she was in no mood to fall back into old habits.

Her family, her real family, needed her.

* * *

Santana sat alone on the porch. She faced the street, searching for her missing witch, and she twirled her dagger around as she waited.

"Where are you, Teen?" she whispered.

Santana had no idea when Tina left, or how long she was away from the group, but she reacted just as she would if it was Quinn or Rachel or anyone other than Mike, for that matter. Tina was family. Tina was her second sister, and without her around, Santana was battling going out to look for her or trust that everything's alright by waiting.

"Looking for someone?"

Santana jumped up, dagger in hand, but relaxed when she saw Tina on top of the railing.

"Wait, how did you sneak past me?"

"I walked up the driveway, up the stairs, and sat down. Though to answer your actual question, I have a disillusionment charm on me. I didn't want to attract any unwanted attention on my way here."

Santana went to ask where she was but stopped when she got a better look.

"What the hell are you wearing?"

"Clothes," Tina deadpanned.

"You look different."

"I haven't changed anything but the outside."

Santana hummed and looked Tina up and down, studying the differences. The witch, not in her usual attire of jeans and a t-shirt, had on cargo pants and a top that barely covered her stomach and dipped dangerously low in the front. The symbols etched into Tina's skin looked fresh, and Santana frowned.

"Are those runes?"

"Indeed. I," Tina paused, "well, I will need the protection soon."

"Unhuh. And the blonde hair?"

"I've always been a blonde," Tina said wryly. "I merely washed the potion out of my hair."

"Right. And the lizard eyes?"

"Had them for three years. They're a side effect."

"Of what?"

"Dragon bite. Tried to get scales from a female dragon. Not my best idea."

Santana frowned, trying to figure out when Tina had the chance to see a dragon when the witch hopped down and tossed a bag at Santana.

"Oof," she grunted.

"It's not that heavy," Tina snorted.

"No, but I'm still a little sore from tackling Quinn."

"You should exercise more."

"I was trying to do that before Quinn showed up earlier," she muttered.

"Gross. I didn't need to hear about you and Rachel's sex life."

"Or lack thereof," Santana corrected.

Tina grinned and jerked her thumb to the house. "Everyone inside?" she asked.

Santana focused on the tone, knowing there was something she wasn't saying, but she answered, "Yes."

"Okay."

"Teen, what's going on?"

The witch paused and took three steps until she was face to face with Santana. "Do you trust me?" she whispered.

"I- always."

"Then trust me now."

"Fine, but for the record," Santana swung the bag over her shoulders and flicked Tina in the nose, "you never, ever leave without letting me or Quinn know. You are my family, and believe it or not, and if anything happened to you, I would be distraught."

Tina smiled at the statement and kissed Santana on the cheek. "I know. And I would be upset if I lost you too."

"Okay."

Santana saw the blinds flicker, and sighed.

"Let me guess, Rachel's at the window?" Tina asked.

"Yes," Santana grumbled.

Tina laughed and looked over her shoulder at a peeping Rachel. She wiggled her fingers in greeting, and the Elemental rolled her eyes before crooking her finger at the two of them.

"Think she wants us to come inside," Tina mock-whispered.

Santana huffed and nudged Tina until she was moving on her own accord. Out of everyone in the house, Tina was her moral and mortal guide. Tina was by no means immortal, no matter how many healing potions she drank, and Santana meant what she said. Losing Tina would be a massive blow to her emotional state, almost as much as losing her mother or Simon. Quinn and Rachel equaled a demonic hurricane prepared to wipe any and everyone off the face of the Earth. Tina and her mother, along with Simon, were her lifelines.

She needed them to live.


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N: Mistakes are mine**

* * *

It'd been five days. Five long, tiring, and stressful days, but for the first time in 120 hours, everyone would be in the same shared space. Most stayed in their respective rooms, not venturing out unless necessary, and even though the house was big enough for everyone to roam freely, no one bothered to take advantage. There was an unspoken rule to avoid the second level; more specifically, the fourth room on the right and the fifth room on the left. Santana was colder than usual, her icy demeanor causing anyone not named Rachel to stay clear, and Simon wasn't any better. There was a sense of savagery in his actions, in his words, that made the house uncomfortable.

Tina sat down at the kitchen table and placed her chin in the palm of her hand. She'd drastically misunderstood the relationship between the siblings. Anyone could see they hated one another, but while two were actively trying to kill one another, there was a rule against someone else getting involved. It was twisted, sick, but Tina was someone who knew the complexities behind family very well. It wasn't always hugs and kisses, but instead fist fights and name-calling. Shortly after everything went down, Simon and Santana ran off into the woods, spending hours doing who knows what, and when they came back, they were dripping in blood. Later that afternoon, once Jennifer and Maria went to the grocery store, they came back to report the police found random body parts left in various places across town. The police were still looking for the other limbs and organs when Tina last looked into it. And it didn't take much to put two and two together. But the way Santana and Simon avoided talking about it told Tina a lot more than dismemberment went down that evening.

Trying to shake off the memories, Tina closed her eyes, but her body betrayed her, and that night flashed through her mind.

* * *

 _When she'd gotten back, it was as if she'd never left. Everyone was still in the same position, including Mike. With the way his knee was shaking, he was nervous, and she'd noticed he put himself by the door._

 _"Tina! Where have you been?!" Quinn shouted, much to the chagrin of Jennifer._

 _"Oh, you know, out and about. Killing witches and what not."_

 _The entire room grew quiet. Everyone sobered up with various looks of disbelief on their face, and Tina leaned against the wall._

 _"I…was that a joke?"_

 _"No," Tina said. "I genuinely killed a witch, or I expedited the process. Either way, she's dead."_

 _"She?"_

 _"I guess no one's bothered to check on Emma?" she asked wryly._

 _"Please tell me you're joking," Quinn said, her voice high-pitched and scratchy._

 _"Nope."_

 _"What!" Rachel exclaimed. "Why the hell would you do that!?"_

 _"Ask me the right question," Tina said sagely. "And I'll give you the right answer."_

 _She noted there were more angry faces staring back at her, some confused, but one person was looking deathly afraid, and that person seemed intent on making a run for it. As soon as he stood, Tina reached into the holster on her thigh. She grabbed the hilt of her dagger, mindful not to touch the blade, and she chucked it at the Elemental. He cried out, the knife embedded in his thigh, and Tina ignored the sudden quiet that fell over the room. Mike's body wavered a bit before fell back against the couch, and she was proud to see her serum worked._

 _"Tina!" Santana shouted. "What are you doing!"_

 _She saw Simon, Rachel, and Quinn bristle, fingers twitching as if they wanted to go on the offensive before they needed to defend themselves, but she paid them no mind. Jennifer moved over to Mike, and as she reached for the dagger, Tina quickly called out her name._

 _"If you take it out, he dies."_

 _"Why did you do it in the first place?" Quinn asked._

 _"Has it crossed anyone's mind to ask how the group and Emma knew to attack the house when they did? Was it not odd they attacked so soon after Brittany died? Hell, how did she know we were staying there? We'd been there for at least a few days, and yet they chose that specific moment to attack? Why? Not to mention, why did Emma come in last? She stayed on the sidelines and had ample opportunity to escape, but she didn't. She went down easily and had it not been for the fact Emma was lying horizontally when the arrows came in; we wouldn't even be having this conversation."_

 _Tina started counting things off with her fingers. "Rachel was in Lima for four days, four whole days, before word got around about who she was. Hunters aren't always smart, but they're not dumb to attack a powerful being without provocation. Finn and Azimio ambushed Rachel that night due to false information. Finn got a text that same day, telling him about the bounty on Rachel, and the person even sent him a picture. Finn and Azimio, just like the other Hunters in Lima, had no idea Rachel was here. Sure, they knew she was in Ohio, but most Hunters thought she was in Akron or Cleveland. She was hidden in Lima, hiding in plain sight, but Emma needed that to change. Say the right words to the wrong people and rumors spread. And we all know what happens when rumors reach people's ears. They become wild and uncontrollable, but this rumor did its job the night Finn and Azimio died. It forced Santana to stop being a wallflower, and it brought her to the forefront of everything._

 _"Next, Azimio, as Santana told us, warned her that Hunters are watching her brother. Well, that's not exactly true considering Hunters gave up on Simon years ago. He minded his business, and in their mind, he wasn't a big enough factor. Santana's fear of losing her brother, despite their troubles, made her make a spur of the moment decision. I, unfortunately, played a part in that but I was oath-bound long before any of this became an issue. I knew Santana couldn't leave, not after she ducked out the first time to find Quinn, and I knew the archangels strengthened the barrier. I suggested she summon Simon to Lima and again, I played right into the game. Once Simon was here, he couldn't leave. And I'm sorry about that, but there's nothing I can do about it now. Last but not least, the same night Simon arrives in Lima, Santana's mother gets arrested by fake cops for murdering Ethan and Susan Pierce."_

 _Tina stopped to catch her breath, but before anyone could cut in, she asked, "Now, do those names ring any bells to anyone in this room?"_

 _Five hands rose in the air, but she was most interested in the person in the far right corner._

 _"General Commander, how do you know those names?" she asked._

 _The archangel stared curiously at Tina. "I used to know them, once upon a time, though I do not see how Maria could have been arrested for that crime, considering Ethan and Susan Pierce were ex-communicated. They are no longer angels. They are not even Fallen. I have not seen or heard from them in years," he said._

 _Jennifer coughed nervously, and said, "Well, I can say without a doubt that neither Ethan or Susan is dead, technically. I had the unfortunate pleasure of running into them a few years ago."_

 _"Right, and thought they pretended to be Brittany and her sister's parents for a while," Artie added, "no one asked about them after my first senior year."_

 _"Probably because they took a wrong turn during a hike and had spent the last several decades as vampires," Tina deadpanned._

 _"Did Brittany know?" Quinn asked._

 _"She did. She's the one who gave them animals to feed on to keep them moderately sated, but she lost contact with them, and she assumed they left town. Seers can't see the future of a vampire because they're no longer human, and for a while, they stayed in the shadows. Least until a few nights ago when they stormed the house with their brethren. Loose ends, I imagine."_

 _"But that doesn't explain why someone would say my Mom killed them," Santana pointed out._

 _"There are archangels here who, if paid the right amount of money in the right kind of currency, will say and do whatever you ask. Let's say our fake cops got paid in their choice of vice. They would have arrested Maria for having sex with a dog if they were ordered to do so, but the sole purpose of arresting her was to-_

 _"Get her to the station where they poisoned her," Santana finished._

 _"Exactly, but she was just a host," Tina said. "No offense."_

 _"You're fine_ _," Maria muttered._

 _"A host?" Simon repeated. "A host for what?"_

 _"The poison," Quinn sighed. "They used Maria to transport the Holy Oil to Simon and Santana. They were after them."_

 _"Yep."_

 _"Are you saying someone's trying to kill my brother and me?"_

 _"Yes, but not just you two. This person wants all three of you gone. In this chess match, our mysterious third player is moving pieces behind the scenes. This player would have to be someone with balls so big they can stand next to Santana, next to Simon, and smile in their face while making moves to ensure Santana doesn't survive the battle with one brother or live long enough to celebrate her victory with the other," she said._

 _Recognition burned in Santana's eyes, and she turned that gaze on Mike._

 _"And what does Emma have to do with any of this?"_

 _"Oh, sorry. Emma had a bad habit of sleeping around with beings she wasn't supposed too, and her bad habit caught up with her. Emma was pregnant with the baby of a demon, and she told her secret to someone she thought would have her back. As these things go, Emma got blackmailed into making a deal with Solomon. She would lead a group of people, manipulate them into the ambush, and she would make sure Solomon had prime access to his siblings. She waited so long to attack because Brittany had protection around the house. No one else could get in, and I imagine Brittany's sudden removal from the Seer's council damaged her sight. Her sacrifice could have easily spelled our deaths had Emma not changed her mind at the last minute. She sent several people home who would've given us a run for our money, and left us vulnerable. Her reasons why are between her and me."_

 _"I'm still confused as to why you killed her in the first place."_

 _"Because I knew she would live a horrible and painful life if she lived. She was half-burnt when I found her. It was a mercy kill."_

 _"Half-burnt?" Quinn repeated._

 _"Someone got to her first. This individual dragged Emma out into the woods and set her on fire."_

 _"I'm assuming it's the same person responsible for everything else?' Santana asked, glancing at Mike._

 _Tina nodded. "Indeed. If you haven't figured it out yet, our little Elemental here didn't know I followed him that night. I waited, listening to everything he said, and how he's spent so long plotting your death. He thought he'd been careful, thought Emma would die and take her secrets with her, but she didn't. I know everything. Even how his aunt was the one who rejected Solomon, but no one bothered to ask what else his aunt did to warrant Solomon's anger."_

 _"What do you mean?"_

 _"Ask him yourself," Tina said, letting Santana know that she knew she'd been in contact with her brother._

 _Santana clenched her jaw and looked away._

 _"Um, did you do something to that knife?" Rachel asked. "Because he looks like shit."_

 _"Oh, yeah, the dagger has diluted manticore poison on the blade. He's going to be in a lot of pain for the next few days if he lives long enough."_

 _"What's going to happen to him? I don't want him dead," Santana said, her voice emotionless and distant._

 _"He'll feel dizzy, have a fever, and his pain will grow over the next few days. It's a very slow acting poison," Tina paused, "But that doesn't mean he won't suffer."_

 _Santana twitched, almost imperceptibly the first time, but when it happened a second time, Simon grabbed her by the arm and hissed something in her ear. Santana kissed Rachel on the cheek, nodded at Tina and Quinn before she and Simon ran out of the house. The rest of the room lapsed into tense silence, and it broke when Marcial cleared his throat._

 _"I was unaware that so many of my men and women live in this town, and do things as deplorable as what you have said for who knows how much money or whatever else offered. I, for the time being, am still the General Commander, and I intend on finding out what is going on down here. If you will excuse me," he said, bowing._

 _"Wait,-_

 _"You are needed here," Marcial interrupted Quinn. "I would be a fool to separate you from your friends. I will be fine. I swear to you I will come back."_

 _"You better."_

 _Marcial left the room, and the front door closing echoed around the home._

 _"What do we do with him?" Maria asked._

 _"Bury him," Rachel suggested darkly. "He'll be without access to his magic."_

 _Quinn and Tina, along with Jennifer, performed the burial while Artie helped Maria make plans for when Simon and Santana returned. Rachel watched from a distance, her eyes screwed in pain and discomfort, and Tina belatedly realized that Quinn was the same way._

 _Guess that connection wasn't always a good thing._

* * *

Tina felt someone shaking her, and she opened her eyes. She found Jennifer smiling tightly, and the woman gestured outside to the backyard.

"They're ready," she whispered.

Tina sighed. She didn't know what Rachel said to convince Santana to let it happen, but she did, and now, instead of allowing Mike die off or snapping his neck to end things quickly, there was going to be an Elemental style Battle Royale going on in Santana's backyard.

But what made it even more interesting were the judges:

Simon, Santana, and to the shock of everyone, Solomon.


	29. Chapter 29

_Santana laid down in the end zone with her head in Simon's lap. Had anyone walked by, anyone who knew who they were, they would be confused and probably die from shock. Honestly, Santana couldn't blame them. The idea of hanging out on a high school football field on a Thursday night, long after the football team abandoned the premises, having a pow-wow with not only Simon but Solomon as well seemed impossible._

 _But it was a clear indication into her state of mind._

 _"Tell me about that night with the Zephyrs."_

 _Solomon cocked his head and swung his legs over the goal post. He jumped down and sat on his heels, staring curiously at Santana. "Why on Earth would you want to know about that? Has Father not given you the play by play?" he asked._

 _"Tell it to me again, then. You are a vile being but not even you would be callous enough to attack a woman because she finds you unattractive."_

 _"Are you dying? Are you sick? Because never have you complimented me so vividly in one breath."_

 _"I know you better than you know me. I was there long before you, and I will be here long after you. You forget who is first-born and who the accident is. Or do you not recall that Father never wanted you, that your birth was because of his stupidity and arrogance?"_

 _Solomon sneered but said nothing. Santana felt Simon tug on her hair and she huffed, reaching out to grab Solomon's hand._

 _"You are my brother, dumbass, and despite how much I loathe you and wish you had never been born, you are still my Kin. I will not let you die at the hands of some wind-walker. That honor goes to me."_

 _"Again, you have blown me away by the love that drips from your lips, sister," Solomon drawled. "But it sickens me as well. I will tell you what happened, but you must humor me first."_

 _Santana gave a wary nod, and Solomon leaned forward with his fangs on display. He gripped her by the neck and lifted her from the ground. Santana waved off Simon, telling him to stay still, and stared down at Solomon. If he wanted to kill her, he would have done so. There was no murder in his eyes, just twisted amusement, and she would play along if it meant getting rid of the thorn in her side._

 _"Let us play a game," he cooed. "You, me, and Simon, just like the old days."_

 _Santana cursed under her breath and bit down on the inside of her cheek as Solomon tossed her halfway across the field. She skidded through the dirt, coughing, and rolled to the side as Simon landed where she used to be._

 _"Come on! Any person of your choosing and you have one hour," Solomon shouted. "I assume you remember what items count for the most points?"_

 _Simon groaned and blew out a frustrated breath as Solomon took off, cackling the entire way._

 _"I hate this game," he hissed._

 _"No," she corrected. "You hate the fact you always lose."_

 _"I refuse to play this game. I am not the same kid from before."_

 _"Yes, you are," she snapped. "And dammit if you do not start acting like it, you will be the first of Father's Three to die. I will not mourn a stupid man. I would much rather mourn a foolish demon."_

 _Santana jumped up and took off after Solomon, leaving Simon on the field. If he wanted to play along, he would play, and if he wanted to watch from the sidelines, then she would honor that as well. But Simon was nearing the end of his lease, and if he didn't start acting like the demon she knew he could be, the beast she needed him to be, then he has outlived his usefulness._

 _She'd made it to the closest residential area, smelling Solomon nearby, and Simon came to a stop beside her._

 _"Heads, hearts, and lungs right?" he asked. "It has been a minute since I have played."_

 _"Yep. Everything else is worthless," Santana added, smiling to herself._

 _Simon grimaced and shook his head, letting his fangs fall. "We are truly vile and perverse individuals if we used to find this game exciting," he muttered._

 _Santana smiled and tapped him on the cheek, leaving a small cut with her claw. "Maybe but if it gets him on our side, as brief as it might be, then we have to play along. Plus, this is Hunter's territory, and I think it is high time we re-introduce ourselves," she said._

* * *

 _Santana rubbed Simon's back as he vomited on the side of the road._

 _"Glad to see things are back to normal."_

 _She glared at Solomon and gestured to the head in his hands. "Why are you still carrying that around?" she asked._

 _"I intend to hang it from the flagpole at that cesspool you attend."_

 _"You plan to hang the head of Principal Figgins from the flagpole at the school he works at?"_

 _"Poetic, no?"_

 _"I am covered in blood. Nothing about tonight is poetic."_

 _"Guys, my last person was a squirter," Simon groaned off to the side._

 _Santana and Solomon both went to respond but Simon started puking again and the moment vanished. When he finished, Simon used his shirt to wipe his lips, uncaring of the blood caked along his mouth, and Santana patted him on the shoulder._

 _"You did a good job tonight."_

 _"Fuck off, you psychotic bitch."_

 _"There he is," Solomon cheered. "That is the brother I remember, though a little chubbier than the last time we met. Too many trips to the local donut shop in L.A. I assume?"_

 _"Says the guy rocking bell bottoms and a crop top," Simon deadpanned._

 _"This was the only thing I could find in that man's closet," Solomon said defensively. "I grabbed what fit and got out of there. I had no plans on walking around town dripping blood like you two."_

 _Santana looked down and sighed. She'd forgotten how messy things got, especially when they had to use their bare hands or their teeth. "Will you come when we call or not?" she asked tiredly._

 _"I was going to participate regardless of whether you played or not. Let me know when and where. I will be there."_

 _Solomon bowed and disappeared into the woods, going in the opposite direction of her house. Simon exhaled, and Santana already knew what was coming._

 _"Did we just spend hours in the presence of our brother without getting the urge to kill him? At least, no more than usual?"_

 _"He has always hated the idea of someone intruding on his fun, and that is exactly what Mike did."_

 _"He never did tell us what happened with the Zephyrs," Simon pointed out._

 _"No, and he never will," Santana said._

 _"So how can we trust him not to turn on us?"_

 _Santana bent over as her wings snapped out and she flapped them a few times to get airborne Simon seemed put out, knowing he would have to run back, and she said, "You and I both know Solomon is not someone to drop a grudge for sentimentality. He knows we have Mike and he knows the best chance at getting a crack at him would be to go along with whatever we have planned. He needs us just as we need him. Regardless of what we come up with, Solomon will have his vengeance, and I do not plan on standing in his way if it means getting rid of the Zephyr. Will you?"_

 _"No," Simon said grudgingly._

 _"Good. Now I hope you can keep up on foot," she teased._

 _Simon growled. "Watch me."_

 _Santana flew off, letting her memory guide her, and she saw a blur beneath her. Laughing at her brother's expression, Santana slowed down a little so he wouldn't be too tired once they got back to the house, and in the corner of her eye, she caught another figure flying beside her. There were at least a couple of hundred feet between them, and Solomon was showing off by flying backward, his hands behind his head and his feet crossed._

 _ **Do not worry, sister,**_ he said, tapping into her mind. _**I only wish to pretend we love one another just a little while longer.**_

 _Santana chose her words carefully. "I never said I did not love you. I merely chose not to as it makes what I have to do a lot easier."_

 _ **Why do you have so much confidence that you will win? I have many who follow me, many who will be here as soon as I snap my finger. You only have a handful of rejects and a soccer Mom.**_

 _Santana saw her house in the distance and slowed down. She let Simon go ahead, and she turned to face Solomon directly._

 _"I have confidence I will win because I am fighting for the people I love and the people I lost because I loved them. You would understand that if you were born with a heart and not an empty hole in your chest. Do not confuse this temporary ceasefire as a weakness. I mourned you a long time ago, brother. I shed no tears for you nor at the thought of putting an end to this madness," she said._

 _She saw Solomon right himself and believed the conversation to be over. It wasn't until she had landed did she hear Solomon's final remark._

 _ **I do love you, sister. In a different lifetime, under different circumstances, you would be my hero**_.

* * *

 _Rachel slid down the wall in the bathroom and observed Santana through the shower curtain. Her girlfriend – person – whatever they were could hide from everyone in the house, even Quinn if she focused hard enough, but she could never hide from Rachel. It was physically impossible after the ceremony._

 _"You saw Solomon tonight, didn't you?" she asked._

 _"I did."_

 _"And you two fought?" she guessed._

 _"Something like that."_

 _"I don't understand."_

 _Santana sighed and pulled back the curtain. "Get in here," she said softly. "I have to wash my hair, and I cannot hear you over the water."_

 _"You're just trying to get me naked."_

 _"No, but if I had known having blood and pieces of skin caked in my hair was a turn-on for you I would have done it a long time ago."_

 _Rachel snorted but climbed to her feet and took off her clothes. She pulled her hair into a ponytail and got in behind Santana._

 _"Before we continue that conversation, what are we?"_

 _Santana smiled, the genuine smile that lit up her whole face, and said, "It depends on the day of the week."_

 _"Be serious! It's weird not knowing if we're girlfriends or not."_

 _"I thought we were?"_

 _"You never asked."_

 _"I have to ask?"_

 _"If you want to have sex with me tonight, then yes."_

 _Santana laughed and grabbed the shampoo bottle from the side of the tub. Rachel grimaced at the amount of gunk falling to the floor of the shower, and she planned on waiting until Santana didn't look like she went swimming in a pool of liquefied humans before taking advantage of their alone time._

 _"Rachel, stop staring at my ass and answer my question."_

 _She blinked. "What did you ask me?"_

 _"If you wanted to be my fucking girlfriend!"_

 _"Not if you're asking it like that."_

 _Rachel bit her cheek to keep from laughing when Santana turned around, and black eyes narrowed. "Rachel, will you please be my girlfriend?" she asked through gritted teeth._

 _"No, thank you."_

 _Santana huffed and turned back around. "I hate you."_

 _"No, you don't." Rachel ran her nails down Santana's back and added, "You're feeling many things, but hate is not one of them, which leads me to my next question. What happened out there tonight? I expected you to come back angry, pissed, and even a little demonic but you came back quiet and reflective. It's weird."_

 _The only sound in the shower was the water and random grunts from Santana as she washed her hair. Rachel thought she wasn't going to respond, but eventually, she did._

 _"Solomon told me he loves me. It threw me off a little."_

 _"Why? Because it's him or because you think he's lying?"_

 _"Neither. My confusion is due to the fact my brother was telling the truth when he said it."_

 _"How do you know?" she asked._

 _Santana moved so that she had her back to the water as she rinsed it from her hair, and Rachel fought her urge to look down. Tempting, but not the time._

 _"Because I know my brother. If he wanted to throw me off, he would have let me see his face, and let me see the deceit dancing in his eyes. But he was two hundred feet away from me, in the air, and he said it with so much disgust and disappointment that I knew he was telling the truth."_

 _"Ah, I see. You're off because you let yourself think he hated you all these years."_

 _"Exactly! We were going into this two come in, one comes out type battle under the belief we both hated one another, and now that I know that is not the case, I feel cheated," she said, pouting._

 _"You do know this changes nothing. Right? He's still planning on killing you after this thing with Mike."_

 _Santana rolled her eyes. "Thanks for the reminder, Mistress Sensitivity," she said._

 _"You're welcome. Speaking of Mike-" Rachel paused when something Santana said before echoes in her mind, "Say what you said before," she demanded._

 _"The part about me feeling cheated?"_

 _"No, before that."_

 _"The two come in, one comes out-_

 _"Yes! That," Rachel cut in. "That's what we'll do with Mike!"_

 _Santana made a face. "I need more details before I respond," she said warily._

 _"Let me battle him."_

 _"Hell no."_

 _"Please?"_

 _"Not happening."_

 _"Baby, please?"_

 _"No, and will you stop calling me that?"_

 _Rachel draped her arms on Santana's shoulders and whispered, "Yes, your Majesty."_

 _She felt a shiver go through Santana, especially with how close they were standing, but Rachel had a goal in mind. She knew the water was boiling, could feel her skin reddening already, but for some reason, it wasn't burning. Rachel figured Santana turned the temperature down when she invited her in._

 _"Think about it," she murmured, feeling Santana's claws dig lightly into her hips. "Don't you want to see me use my powers at full potential? Watch me tap into the darkness you know lurks just beneath the surface?"_

 _"I-_

 _"Please? You can make it like a real fight. You can judge the entire thing and should he try and cheat, and you can intervene whenever and however you want too."_

 _Santana groaned and exhaled against Rachel's lips. "Fine. You can have your little fight," she said._

 _"Great! Now, finish up. You still smell like blood and guts. When you finish, how about you meet me in the bedroom so I can properly show my appreciation?"_


	30. Chapter 30

**I apologize this is so late. I've had to work more than usual and haven't had time to sit down and actually write this out. Unfortunately, the idea I had for this didn't quite pan out, but I hope I managed to meet at least part of your expectations.**

 **Thank you for your patience.**

* * *

Rachel floated in the pool, eyes closed, music blasting from the stereo on the other side of the room, and a million things fighting for her attention. She counted down from one hundred, then up to fifty, then back down again. She repeated the action until it didn't feel like her brain was going to explode. Rachel initially thought it was a grand idea to have a battle against Mike. She wanted to prove something, but at the time, she thought it was to prove him wrong. It wasn't until she was lying in bed with Santana, listening as the demon sang along to the radio, that she realized it wasn't about Mike at all.

It was about Santana. It'd always been about Santana.

The urge to prove she's worthy of Santana's love, affection, and attention. The desire to show off a little, get the other girl excited about what she can do, and not be the liability she was beginning to think she was. It took her flying out of the window, smashing face-first into concrete, for her to see that Santana would pick her no matter who it was.

Over Quinn. Over Simon. Over Tina. Over Maria.

What if one day Santana chose her and ended up losing her life in the process?

It was a scary, terrifying thought, and it caused Rachel to vanish into the basement for peace of mind. She reached up and wrapped her fingers around the gem resting on her sternum. Santana wasn't too thrilled to discover Rachel carried the power of her ancestors around her neck, but mostly because Santana didn't like the idea of all that magic being within reach. She got over her irritation when Rachel revealed the gem was the sole reason Rachel survived getting tossed from a window onto concrete.

Her arm twitched, and her veins hummed.

Rachel felt her magic falling away, and without warning, she flashed back to when she first got the necklace.

 _"This is Poseidon's Gem," her mother whispered. "It is yours now."_

 _"But, Mama, I'm too young."_

 _"None of that. We both know only a child can possess this. Plus, I am too old, so you are going to have to carry it for me."_

 _Rachel smiled at the joke, and she gently reached out to touch the gem. It sparked her fingers, and she gasped._

 _"It likes you," her mother said, smiling like she knew something Rachel didn't._

 _"It's a gem," Rachel pointed out. "It doesn't have feelings."_

 _Her mother winked. "You will see. One day, you will need it, and it will answer your call," she said softly._

Rachel remembered nodding, and then the feeling of the necklace on her skin. Having the magic of her ancestors, all in one place, was exhilarating. And as if it knew what was about to happen, the gem vibrated in her hands, and something slithered over her brain like a snake. As she focused, she realized voices were coming from inside of the gem. They grew in strength until there was a roaring in her ears. It seemed like there were millions of people talking at once. Some were excited, some were angry, and others were calming. It made her head spin, but the angry voices became louder. The amount of rage radiating from the gem intoxicated her.

She wanted – needed – more.

Just when she thought it would overwhelm her, there was a moment of silence, and then it shattered in her hands.

* * *

Santana kept her mask firmly in place.

"She will be fine."

"I know."

"Then stop worrying."

"I am not worrying," she said through gritted teeth.

"Yes, you are. You have blood on your mouth from your teeth nicking your lip because you are biting down so hard. I can also hear your teeth grinding together."

Santana absentmindedly licked her lips and scowled when the coppery taste reached her tongue.

"I know she will be fine."

"And yet…" Solomon trailed off, and Santana rolled her eyes.

"Just say what you are trying to say. You were never good at beating around the bush."

Solomon bowed his head and said, "You are not worried she will lose. You are worried about what will happen once she wins. You have managed to convince yourself that the darkness inside of you is not inside of her. Should she win, that notion will be disproven, and you are afraid of what will become of her should she give into that evil resting in her heart."

Santana clenched her fists at her side. "You know nothing about her," she said.

"Maybe, but I know everything about you. I can see it written all over your face. I say this to say you have no reason to worry. Your betrothed will succeed and remain the picture of innocence you crave."

"I never said she was innocent. And why does everyone keep calling her that?" Santana huffed.

"Because that is what she is," Solomon deadpanned.

Santana frowned, ready to argue when Tina came out of the kitchen with Jennifer.

"Those are the ones we were waiting for, yes?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Good. So we can begin now, yes?"

She nodded again.

Solomon gripped her elbow and leaned in. She tensed at his closeness but stayed still.

"I see you," he whispered. "You can convince your friends, and you can convince Simon, but you can never trick me into believing worry is all you feel right now. You might think you will be upset at watching her give in but you and I both know you are excited. You want her too. You need her too. Think of what she can do, how she can make him suffer, and well, I do not need to go into too much detail on how that makes you feel, correct?"

"Correct," she managed to get out.

Solomon chuckled and stood up straight. He put his hands in his pockets and walked off to where they were supposed to sit. She took a deep breath and exhaled, hating her brother yet again for taking her mask and obliterating it with only a few words. When Quinn got everyone's attention, Santana automatically looked over at Rachel. Their eyes met, and Santana furrowed her brows.

Something was off.

She stepped forward, but Simon grabbed her shirt and tugged her away. When she managed to look back, Rachel had her back to her, but even by the tenseness in her shoulders, Santana could tell something was not right with her girlfriend.

* * *

Rachel had on a sports bra and a pair of shorts that left little to the imagination. It was weird, and a little off-putting, but she pushed it to the back of her mind. She made a face when Mike stood in front of her, in as little clothing as her and the friendly face she was accustomed too was gone. The atmosphere was tense, everyone on edge, but no one could intervene. Rachel rolled her neck to the side, trying to give the impression she was stretching, but the truth was about as outlandish at what happened in the pool. What was worse was that while everyone else had no idea something was different, her girlfriend did, and it took a lot of willpower not to look at Santana. The way she could feel those black eyes roaming over her body made her shift from side to side. It was like a mix of lust, concern, and irritation. A lethal mixture that convinced Rachel a rough fuck could do them both good emotionally, mentally, and physically.

As crude as the thought was, she saw the truth in it.

The walls she'd erected wavered, and she strengthened the barriers. The last thing she needed was for Santana poking around in her brain when she was distracted. When a hand waved in front of her face, she blinked when she realized Mike had been talking to her.

"What?" she blurted.

"How can you stand here and fight for them after what they did to your family? They all deserve to die, to rot, and you still protect them."

Rachel used her index finger to push Mike back and sniffed indignantly. "You misunderstand my loyalties," she said.

"You're even starting to sound like her."

"I love her. If she killed everyone on this field in a fit of anger, I would be upset and possibly concerned, but I would still love her."

"She's evil!" he shouted.

"And so am I, under the right circumstances," Rachel responded coolly.

"It's different with us."

"Get to the point, Mike," she said.

"My point is that you should get your head from her ass-

"Not exactly the place I imagined my head being," Rachel interrupted.

Mike's face grew red. "You know what, nevermind. I was trying to save your life, but it doesn't matter. I'll keep you alive long enough for you to watch her die," he snarled.

"You do a lot of talking, but lucky for me, I'm not like you."

"Bullshit! You're just like me," he snapped.

Rachel growled and stepped forward. "No, Mike," she growled. "I am better than you."

Mike yelled out in frustration, and Rachel, knowing what was next, relaxed her body as a gust of wind blew her into the woods. Her back slammed into a tree. Lucky for her, she went through a frozen hell to walk away from that with only a sore spine. Huffing, she brushed the dirt from her legs and stomped out to where Mike stood.

"Child's play. Quit with the parlor tricks," she taunted.

"I agree."

Rachel cursed under her breath as she flew into the air. She kept rising until she was at least a hundred feet over the house. Before he could catch her off guard, she flicked her wrist and jumped. Not bothering to watch the reactions of the others, Rachel hopped her way down floating rocks until she reached solid ground. Stumbling forward, she blew her hair from her face and glared at Mike.

"Still with the parlor tricks?" she said.

"Y-you shouldn't be able to do that."

"Up until thirty minutes ago, I couldn't."

"Enough with the talking!" someone shouted. It sounded like Quinn, but Rachel couldn't be sure.

"I agree," Mike growled.

Mike swung out his arm and Rachel, who admittedly didn't see it coming, took the force of the hit unprepared. Her ribs protested the impact, as did every organ in her chest, and she hit the ground hard. When Rachel managed to get to her feet, Mike did it again, and Rachel hit her head on the back of a rock. She stayed on the ground. It gave her an opportunity to catch her breath. She listened for Mike, trying to get a feel of how far away he was, but she wasn't aware of his presence until he yanked her up by her hair. He crashed his fist into her stomach, and Rachel grinned when he hissed in pain.

"Probably shouldn't do that too often, might break your hand," she panted, hiding her wince with a smirk.

Just because it didn't do any damage to her body didn't mean it didn't hurt.

Mike let her go, staring down at his hand, and she directed her magic towards the sky. The once clear sky became a mangled collection of dark clouds, and the temperature in the air dropped to the point her breath came out in thin wisps.

"Think you're the only one that can control the weather?" Mike challenged, already lifting his arms above his head.

Rachel prepared for that one, though, and she grabbed both arms and focused her energy on the blood in his veins. Mike tried to break free, but Rachel had an iron grip. His arms turned blue, then green, then purple, and finally, she felt his skin and blood hardening under her touch. When both arms were frozen solid, she laughed and kneed him in the groin, causing him to fall to his knees.

"As a child, I used this trick on the kids who used to bully me because of my size," she said. "And do you know what I did after?"

Mike, currently without the use of his arms, tried relying on his other senses. The wind picked up around her, but it didn't faze her. Rachel released his right arm and wrapped one hand around his left wrist. She iced over her free hand and made a fist. Raising her hand, she punched down on his arm at the elbow and threw the bottom half of his arm towards the deck.

"I broke them in half."

Rachel did the same thing to his other arm, and the result was a mangled lump of red, purple, and green. Pieces of him flew away in the very wind storm he created. He didn't scream, and Rachel fake pouted.

"Nothing? Well, that's fine. You will scream. I'll make sure of it."

The rain started to fall, and Rachel could see his eyes glazing over. His body shivered violently at the cold temperature, and when she looked around, she could see everyone but the demons doing the same.

Guess being a personal heater had its advantages.

Rachel turned back to see Mike smiling widely at her. His eyes turned that creepy shade of white, and Rachel, not too sure what was about to happen, tried to move back, but she couldn't. Her body jerked, and her muscles locked. He rose to his feet and laughed.

"I have a secret," he whispered, his voice surrounding her like the very element he controlled.

The wind around her slowed into a gentle breeze. She tried to summon more rain, but the only thing she summoned was a headache.

"Don't bother trying to fight it. All you will do is make it hurt worse."

Rachel could feel him inside of her, and it made her feel sick in more ways than one.

"You see, I spent some time in the presence of witches, many of whom were all too willing to teach me new tricks. Not the parlor ones you're so accustomed too."

Rachel lost control of her body and her mind. She was in a mental prison, watching her body make decisions without her, and she turned to face the deck where everyone stood. She could see Santana rising to her feet, yelling at the others to go inside, and Rachel had a sinking feeling in her stomach.

"As you can see, one of the things I learned is the puppet spell. I can make people do what I want, say what I want, and act the way I want."

Rachel's hands moved on their own accord, and Simon and Solomon were both encased in ice against the house.

"I was hoping I would get to use this spell on Santana, but since you've taken my arms, I'll just use you instead."

Rachel suddenly was at a full sprint. Part of her rebelled, but Mike had the upper hand. She crashed full force into Santana and had her on the ground. Rachel heard Mike in her head.

 ** _Punch her._**

And so, she did. She reared back and punched Santana in the jaw. Again. And again. She kept hitting her until blood pooled out of Santana's mouth.

 ** _Wrap your hands around her neck._**

Panic set in. She had no idea how to break the spell. She wasn't an idiot. She'd just shown Mike what she was capable of, and she could feel it in her bones he wanted her to do the same to Santana.

 ** _You see, Rachel, even demons can freeze._**

She fought against him, giving it everything she could, and just as the ice reached the tip of her fingers, she had an epiphany.

What if Mike's spell only applied to the organic?

* * *

He was close, so close, but something changed. Mike lost his connection to her, and he closed his eyes as a sharp pain went through his head. When he opened his eyes, the scene was too surreal to believe. The rain was frozen in mid-air, and Rachel was nowhere to be seen. In fact, there was no one out there but him.

"I admit I got cocky."

Mike jumped. He could hear her, but he couldn't see her.

"I thought you weren't worth the energy, but your spell was powerful. I was afraid you were going to win."

His eyes darted to the side, but nothing.

"But you will regret not killing me the moment you had the opportunity."

"Where are you! Show yourself!" he shouted.

"I am all around you."

Mike spun around, searching.

"Come on, Mike. Find me."

His stomach lurched, and he started to cough up blood.

"You're running out of time."

He groaned and clenched his eyes shut.

"I am more than what you think."

He twitched when there was a sharp pain in his groin. The sadistic bitch.

"I am the rain, the ocean, the rivers, and the streams. I am the creeks, the lakes, and the puddles after a storm."

Mike felt more blood coming out of his eyes and his nose, and he caught of glimpse of something in his peripheral. It looked like Rachel, but he wasn't sure. The tears in his eyes froze, and he lost his ability to see.

She'd blinded him.

"You still refuse to scream?"

Something pushed him forward, and without his arms, he hit the ground face-first. He had no plans of giving Rachel the satisfaction of hearing him scream but whatever she was doing made him want to claw off his skin. To his right, someone snapped their fingers, and he felt the rain falling once more

Mike's body began to shut down on him. Something turned him on his back, and the ice over his eyes melted away. He was unprepared for the sight that greeted him. It was Rachel, of that he was sure, but she appeared to be made of stone. Her eyes were like snowflakes, glinting from a light he couldn't see, and she kneeled beside him.

"You asked me how I could stand beside them, beside her, and how I can ignore the evil. The truth is I have evil inside of me as well, so do you, and it would be foolish to think the two are different. However, I must thank you."

Rachel lifted her hand and placed the tip of her fingers on his forehead.

"Without you, I would have continued to hide, holding back my full potential. Now, I can be at peace with who I am and show the world just what I can do."

Mike never got to respond. At first, it felt like a brain freeze after overeating ice cream, but then it became excruciating. She stared down at him, waiting, and though he tried to fight it, the scream escaped from his lips, and she smiled victoriously.

"Told you so," she whispered.


	31. Chapter 31

**Time jump.**

 **Mistakes are mine.**

* * *

It took Solomon a month before his first attack.

The last day before winter break, the juniors and seniors were at home while the sophomores and the freshmen were at school, and as usual, there was a pep rally. Santana, who decided the least she could do was show up for the pep rally, dressed in full uniform and was unsurprised to note that not one person noticed she'd been missing for nearly two months. They all greeted her like an old friend. She spent most of her time hanging around in the background, watching the Baby Cheerios laugh and gossip, and she munched on whatever she found in the teachers' lounge.

"Should I be worried at you being here?"

Santana glanced up and shook her head at the witch. "No, here as a student, not a demon," she said softly.

"What's different about you?"

Sue sat down next to her, and Santana shrugged.

"I've had a good couple of weeks. My girlfriend and I are happy. Quinn and I haven't had an actual fight in the last week or so, and we can be around each other's natural state for longer than a few minutes. My brother, the non-sociopathic one, and our Father made up, so there's that. It's just been nice having peace," she said.

"Why are you so upfront about all of this? Normally you're snappish and-

"I have no reason to be upset with you. Least not today."

"Neutral zone?"

"Indeed."

Sue stood up and left, going to yell at some students for making too much noise, and Santana went back to eating her food. She debated whether she should call Rachel or not, have her come down to the school just for the company, but thought better of it. Rachel and Tina were having one of their rare bonding days, playing around with the new aspects of Rachel's magic, and she wasn't going to intrude on that.

Quinn stayed home, saying she and her father, the now former General Commander, wanted to go out to the woods to do some weird, angel shit. Santana wasn't listening when Quinn was talking, focused instead on the way Rachel's shirt drooped just enough she could see the hickeys littered across her neck. Artie and Jennifer were on the other side of town, still unpacking their new house, and Simon was with them for the heavy lifting. Her mother was probably at the grocery store, buying food for dinner, and knowing her mother, her cell phone was on the kitchen counter and not in her pocket where it was supposed to be.

All in all, Santana was alone for the day.

"Hopefully this doesn't last too long," she muttered under her breath.

She looked up when the feedback from the mic echoed through the gym. The interim principal grated her nerves, but she couldn't figure out why. Solomon, thankfully, didn't hang the head of Principal Figgins from the flagpole, but the police still claimed the man was AWOL. Santana had no idea what Solomon did to get rid of all the blood and gore, and the head, but she never got the chance to ask. After Rachel killed Mike, it seemed like everyone was a jittery mess. Her brother slipped away, and they hadn't heard from him, seen him, or felt him in four weeks.

"Hello students, I am glad you have all decided to join us today."

Us?

"My associates and I were afraid our dinner would be a little lacking, but it is nice to see we have an abundance."

Associates? Dinner?

Santana saw a flash off to the corner.

"Shit," she whispered.

Vampires were closing the doors and chaining them shut. She looked over at Sue, saw the witch on her feet, and Santana pulled out her phone. She almost crushed the device when she saw the 'No Service' at the top.

"Your phones will not work. No one will be able to help you. Not even your resident witch."

Santana, before the words even registered, had the unfortunate pleasure of watching two vampires tear into Sue before she could even think of a spell.

"And, not even your friends, lovers, or siblings will be able to help you."

When several of the students started getting up, their eyes red, Santana's heart dropped to her stomach. They'd already turned some of the kids. They'd been planning this for a while.

"My children smell your fear, and," the interim principal paused and looked over his shoulder, staring directly at Santana, "they smell your power."

Santana gave him a fake smile and remained seated, even though vampires were closing in on her. "Guess you planned all this out, huh?" she said.

"Somewhat. We were not anticipating you being in attendance, but no matter. I am sure your brother will appreciate having your head delivered to his residence before evening. With that said, should we save you for later or take care of you now?"

"The result will be the same."

"Your confidence is both admirable and foolish. There are too many of us and too little of you. You might kill a handful, but honestly, Princess, do you think you can kill us all before we get our hands on you?"

"I have no idea, but let's find out, shall we?"

* * *

Rachel played around with the rocks in her human state, mindful of not losing her concentration, especially with Tina standing directly under the boulders.

"Wow! This is so cool! So, you can't control the Earth per say, but the water inside of it?" Tina asked, poking and prodding the mud-like rocks.

"Right. I can do it with air too, depending on the situation. If it's like a cloud, I can strip the water from the cloud. If it's like smoke from a fire, I can't."

Tina nodded, chewing on her bottom lip, and asked, "And you turning into stone? That's like a last-ditch effort?"

Rachel laughed and swung her arms, returning the rocks to their dirt and water state. "Ice, not stone, and yes. It takes a lot out of me though, as I'm sure you remember. But why are you asking me this? I told you already," she said.

Tina bounced up and down. "I always get fascinated when I hear it. That gem changed the structure of your magic down to its molecular level. You can turn into ice when you're angry enough, and you can pull water from any source. It's just really cool, and this is the first day when we can actually play around with it."

Rachel blushed and tucked her hair behind her ear. "Yeah, sorry. I didn't think I would be out for a few days and then have a-

"Two-and-a-half week sex marathon with your demon girlfriend?" Tina finished. "Yeah, we didn't either."

"It wasn't that long!"

"Yes, it was. You were more than likely too stoned from your back-to-back orgasms that you couldn't keep count."

Rachel sputtered, trying to come up with a response, and Tina laughed.

"I'm kidding," she said. "We knew how much you two needed the time together, which is why we left the house after the second day. It was no biggie, I promise."

Rachel stuck out her tongue, and Tina smirked.

"Thought your tongue would be tired after everything it's been through."

"Oh my God," Rachel murmured, rubbing her forehead.

"Heard that a lot too," Tina quipped.

"Shut up."

"Alright, alright. Come on, show me what else you can do."

Rachel pointed back to the house. "I can, but I need some water first. I haven't been as active as I need to be in recharging this thing," she said, glancing down at the gem in the middle of her chest. It was weird, having it there, but Santana didn't seem to mind.

Thinking about Santana caused her body to warm, and butterflies erupted in her stomach.

"Are you really having sex flashbacks?!" Tina shouted.

"N-no!"

"Gross dude!"

Rachel scowled. She was two seconds away from strangling Tina in the front yard when something tugged at the back of her mind. She frowned, trying to focus on it, but it vanished. She was about to shake it off when it happened again, stronger, and her eyes widened.

"San's at the school, right?" she asked quickly, already jogging towards Tina's car.

"Yeah, why? What's going on?"

Tina was behind her, doing more of a brisk walk than a run, and Rachel was about to say she wasn't sure when that tug caused her to stop and fall to her knees, grabbing at her head.

"Something's wrong," she whimpered. "She's hurt."

"Who? San?"

"Who else would I be talking about?" she snapped.

"Sorry, sorry, stupid question. But come on, we're almost to the car," Tina said hurriedly.

Rachel was in pain. It felt like she was getting her ass beat, which meant Santana was getting her ass beat, and that was not a good sign. Standing up, Rachel half-limped and half-ran with Tina to the car, but she knew there was only one person who could get to the school faster than they could.

Hoping the angel wasn't too far away, she screamed out, "QUINN!"

* * *

Fighting with her father in the middle of the woods wasn't her idea of fun, but then again, she hated her father. At least, her other father. It was still confusing. Russell was the man who raised her, but Marcial was already proving to be a better man than six Russells combined.

"Focus!"

She yelped and glared at him, rubbing her thigh where he'd smacked her.

"Shouldn't they have taken that from you?" she grumbled.

"Maybe. I hinted it might have been stolen."

"You lied to the Council?"

"Yes."

"Heathen."

Marcial rolled his eyes and got into a fighting stance. "Will you concentrate, please? Your sword skills are rudimentary, and honestly, you can barely hold your own with Santana," he said.

"First of all," Quinn said, copying his position, "Santana is a fighter beyond anyone's skills. She doesn't go down easily. Second, Russell wasn't interested in my learning how to fight. He just wanted me to be his good little angel and stay in my place."

"Remind me to kill him the next time I see him."

"Remind me not to try and stop you."

Marcial smiled and took a step forward. They traded blows for a while, Marcial getting the best of her a few times but just as she was getting the hang of it, a scream reverberated through the trees.

 _QUINN!_

She pushed her father away and turned back towards where she knew the house to be.

"Was that-

"Yes, that was Rachel screaming my name, and not in the good way."

"Do you make comments like that in front of Santana? Because if so, then I can see why you two are always fighting."

Quinn smirked, briefly, but closed her eyes. She tapped into the connection she shared with Santana, something Marcial still hadn't forgiven her for, and it only took about two seconds of being linked with the demon for her to see why Rachel called for her.

"Fucking hell," she huffed, already letting her wings out.

"Quinn?" her father called out, shifting with her.

"If you're coming, then come on," she said before getting a running start.

She used a tree to propel into the sky and angled towards the school. She glanced to the side, saw her father right next to her, and then she caught a black blur speeding down the street going in the same direction.

Quinn picked up speed.

So much for their free day.

* * *

Santana took another hit to the side. In hindsight, fighting a bunch of speedy and sneaky vampires at one time while trying to save what little humans she could wasn't the best idea. Thinking about making a run for it, leaving the kids to fight for themselves, a voice that sounded suspiciously like Izzy's convinced her to stick around. She had most of them huddled together, using the legs of the broken chairs as protection, and thankfully there were a couple of Hunters posing as teachers.

At that point, they were all on the same side, coming together to protect the students.

Distracted, she felt a sharp pain on her right side and looked down at the piece of metal protruding from her shoulder. A vampire then tackled her to the floor and bit down on her arm after she raised it to keep him from biting her neck. He tore out a piece of muscle, and she kicked him up and off her.

Of course, it was her right arm.

"Motherfucker," she huffed, feeling the blood drip down her fingers. "DO YOU IDIOTS KNOW HOW LONG IT WILL TAKE ME TO GROW THIS BACK?!"

"This is supposed to be the Princess?!" one vampire shouted. "She's pathetic! We don't need to take her to Solomon! We can take care of her ourselves."

"Aww," Santana cooed. "Has it ever occurred to you that I am not sparing you the attention you want and deserve?"

The vampire frowned. "What?"

Santana rolled her eyes. Apparently, her brother likes having mindless lackeys at his beck and call. She yanked the metal from her shoulder, cringing at how numb her right side felt, and glanced back at the Hunters. They gave her a look, one that told her to stop fucking around, and she smiled wickedly at them.

"Fine, okay. No more playing with my food."

Santana sprinted towards the bleachers, taking them two at a time, and did a backflip off the wall once she got to the top. She shifted mid-air and propelled herself backward by kicking off the vampires stupid enough to fall her up the stairs. They crashed into the wall, their skulls making a sickening sound as they hit the concrete, and her wings brushed against the hardwood. She did the best she could, avoiding vampires and pushing a few away as she headed for the rafters. Once she was balanced, she summoned a fireball. Taking a deep breath, she pressed it against the wound in her shoulder, and then again on the missing chunk of skin on her arm.

"And to think I was going to go easy on you guys," she shouted down, pissed she would have to fight with one arm.

"Yeah, right! From what we've seen, you're nothing more than talk!"

Santana blew out a frustrated breath and flipped off the dumbass still talking. Most of the vampires had gathered around, some even trying to climb up there to meet her, and sure enough, even the head honcho had taken his eyes off the survivors. Seeing they got their cue, the Hunters quietly and quickly escorted the remaining students away from the gym, Santana's earlier punch through the chains allowing them a small exit.

"Are you going to come down or are we going to have to come up there to get you?"

"Oh, no, I plan on coming down. I am counting."

"Counting? What for?"

When four vampires started monkeying their way over the rafters, Santana pointed her index finger and thumb, mimicking a gun, and shot four small bursts of fire at their heads. Down they went, like falling, flaming sacks of potatoes, and she smiled at the one in charge.

"I hate fighting with odd numbers."

* * *

Rachel and Tina got there way after Quinn, even with Tina going eighty miles per hour, and the former General Commander was outside puking when they arrived. Quinn was there too, and she stopped the duo before they could run into the school.

"Um, you may not want to go in there. Trust me, Santana is fine. It's just," Quinn's face paled, "I forgot how much demons and vampires were alike," she said hoarsely.

"It can't be that bad," Rachel huffed.

Quinn stepped to the side, letting Rachel and Tina go past. The moment they entered, the smell of blood and burnt skin reached their noses and Tina gagged.

"Nope, nevermind. You're on your own," she said quickly, backing away towards the exit.

Rachel called her a wimp and put her sleeve over her nose. She ran towards where the smell was the strongest and following the blood droplets on the floor. Skidding to a stop, mostly because the droplets turned to puddles and she'd almost lost her balance, Rachel stared at the person in the middle of the gym. Santana, with one arm looking like several animals got a hold of it and started chewing, was-

"Why are you licking your fingers?" she asked warily, her voice muffled.

Santana's head swiveled lazily, a glazed look over her deep red eyes, and she said, "Because one of them tastes familiar."

Rachel realized why Quinn stayed outside. They knew Santana was sadistic, but this, this was more than what they expected.

"Calm down," Santana sighed, reading her emotions. "I am not licking him because I like the way he tastes. I have had his blood before or blood like it, and it is bothering me because I cannot remember where I know it from."

"What happened in-," she huffed and lowered her arm, "can we please have this conversation outside? Or in the shower? You smell and look like you took the word bloodbath literally."

"If you were going to ask what happened," Santana said, ignoring the last part of her statement and pointing to the ceiling. "Then you should ask him."

Rachel frowned and looked up. She cocked an eyebrow at the armless vampire hanging by his feet, and she squinted.

"Did you de-fang him?"

"Well, I did not want him biting anyone when we took him down. I have had enough fangs in my skin for the day. Hell, for the year."

"Speaking of which-

"I burn off venom."

"Okay."

Santana flapped her wings and shot upward, and she said, "Catch him please!"

"Catch him! How the fuck am I supposed to do that!"

"Uh, magic?"

Rachel shot her girlfriend a glare and hesitated, looking at all the blood on the floor.

"Or you can go ask Quinn?"

"No, I can do it," she grumbled.

Santana did something, Rachel couldn't see what, and the body dropped. Rachel flicked her wrist, and the blood on the floor congealed, creating a gelatin-like substance. The vampire bounced a bit and hit the ground, but considering the starting point, she felt like it was an improvement.

Her girlfriend flittered down, and she wrapped her fingers around the vampire's collar. They left the gym and were halfway to the exit when Santana sighed.

"I think one of those vampires was related to a Hunter I killed recently."

"What's your point?"

"I think Solomon may have taken advantage of that situation with Mike by having Simon and me eliminate certain Hunters in Lima for easy access to their children."

"Well, how many Hunters did you kill that night?"

Santana grimaced. "I think the better question is who did I kill that night. Because we may have just given Solomon free reign in Lima."


	32. Chapter 32

**A/N: I apologize, you guys! My birthday was this weekend and had no time to update!**

 **All mistakes are mine.**

 **Love you all much!**

* * *

Santana was the one who ended up coming down the stairs. She prodded the vampire until his eyes opened, and she poured a mug of blood down his throat. She needed him conscious, and it wasn't like he could get his own blood anymore. She sat down next to him on the floor and put the cup at her side when he finished.

"Your mouth hurts, I know, and I am sorry."

"You turned me into a monster," he hissed. "For what? For information that I don't have? For your sick pleasure?"

"Can I be blunt with you?" she said, wiping the blood from his mouth. "I think vampires are highly overrated."

He jerked to the side, glaring at her, and said, "I think of demons the same. You think you're better than everyone just because you have natural magic! Well, you're not! We're the same thing, same creature, but we accept who we are. Your people like to pretend and play games, manipulate people, and that's inhumane!"

"So why do you follow my brother? When that is all he does?" she asked.

"Because he offers us a life where we don't have to hide. We would be free under him."

"Would you really?"

The vampire glowered, and Santana moved so that she reclined against the wall. She was still in her natural state, and her wings were tightly folded against her back, so it was hard to get comfortable, but she was making it work.

"I will be the first to say I hate your people. I always have, no matter how similar you might think we are, but I also know how smooth my brother can be. Do not let him fool you into thinking your life would be easier with him in control. Your food source will be gone, you would live in a world of fire and brimstone, and you would be at the bottom of the food chain. You are nothing more than a supercharged human with a strange diet, and my brother thinks the same of you as I, but at least I am honest enough to tell you to your face."

"He told us you would try and sway us to your side."

Santana laughed and shook her head. "I do not need your people. I hope you fight with him so that I can watch the lot of you burn," she said.

The vampire frowned. "Then why are you telling me this?" he asked.

"Because I wanted you to die with the truth and not the lies my brother implanted in your head. Plus, you and I both know I cannot send you back to your coven defanged," she said. "They would string you by the neck and rip your head from your shoulders."

Santana watched him startle, a pained grimace spreading across his face, and she patted him on the shoulder.

"Before we go down that road, I do have a question for you," she said.

"Which is?" he asked warily.

"Why the school? Why them?" she asked softly. "They were humans, yes, but they were young, and they did nothing wrong. Outside of those Hunters and the Witch, you murdered a bunch of kids for no reason."

"You're defending them now? They deserved to die."

"No, they did not," Santana snapped. "I went to school with them. They were ruthless, cold-blooded, and vicious, but they were also some of the kindest and sweetest people I have ever met. You came in and took away the one thing neither one of us has anymore, and that is their innocence. You claim to hate demons, but your actions made you just like one!"

"I am NOTHING like a demon!" he roared. "And who cares about what we did!? I was glad when your brother approached me, and I was glad when he told me what to do! I wanted to watch them die! There was no purpose other than to have some fun! By the end of the week, vampires and demons will take over this town, and the Witches will be our slaves. I'm sure you can imagine the type of fun we'll have with the humans."

At the end of his little speech, there was spit running down his chin and a crazed look in his eyes, but Santana was amused more than concerned. She hummed and climbed to her feet, brushing the dirt from the bottom half of her dress.

"Oh, your poor thing. You fell into that trap just as easily as I told them you would," she cooed. "Thank you, by the way, for telling me what I wanted to know. I did not know my brother was still in town, but because of you, I now know the truth."

The vampire sputtered and tried getting to his feet, but he wavered.

"You should probably stay seated. That blood was mine. I am surprised you did not smell it when I gave it to you."

"Y-you gave me demon blood?" he whispered, clutching at his throat.

"I did. I prefer that you suffer. I already told you I wanted the lot of you to burn, so I figured why not treat myself and watch it happen from the inside out?"

Santana shifted back into her human-friendly appearance and watched the vampire's eyes dilate. His skin started to smoke, his fingers scratched and clawed at his chest and neck, and Santana observed the scene with excitement. She'd always wanted to know what happens when you give a vampire demon blood, and when Tina told her, she made it a personal mission to stay behind and witness it firsthand. Black liquid oozed from his mouth and his ears, and his neck bubbled over with boils.

"Guess now I do have to leave," she sighed mournfully, knowing that Tina said vampire blood was hard to get out of clothes and hair, and considering the creature in front of her was about to explode, she wasn't going to risk it.

Santana was halfway up the stairs when she heard a sickening splat. She glanced down at the walls and cringed. Her mother was going to kill her.

* * *

Quinn cleared her throat when she walked into Tina's bedroom and closed the door behind her. Rachel had been tight-lipped on what she could and couldn't do, and Quinn knew better than to ask the girl directly. Plus, she wanted the excuse to talk to Tina.

"Can we talk?" she asked.

"If this is about Rachel, then no," Tina said, putting down her book. "I told her that I would keep her secret for as long as possible."

"That's not fair!"

"It is. This is Rachel's life, Quinn, and she's doing you guys a favor by not sharing it with everyone."

"But it's me," she whined.

"Was that supposed to help your case?" Tina said dryly. "Because it didn't."

Quinn pouted and flopped down on the bed. Their friendship took a turn over the month things were peaceful. Quinn wasn't rushing into anything, honestly, but Tina was not what she expected. She didn't know if it was because Tina was out of her mom's house and free to be herself, or if Brittany's influence was finally waning, but Quinn was developing a crush on the girl. Or maybe it was always there, either way, it was bothering her. Mostly because the last girl she had a crush on ended up breaking her heart.

"Why else did you come in here?" Tina asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You seriously came all the way up here to ask a question you already knew I wasn't going to answer? Come on, Quinn, surely you don't expect me to believe that?"

"I was," she paused, "bored."

"Bored? In this house? Impossible. There is always something going on."

"Not at the moment," she grumbled. "Everyone is doing their own thing."

"Which is what I was doing before you came in, but continue," Tina interrupted.

Quinn shot her a look and huffed. "I can't come up here to spend time with you?" she asked.

"Maybe, but why would you want to do that?" Tina said softly.

There was another question buried underneath, and Quinn hesitated.

"Why wouldn't I?" she said.

"I can give you one reason."

Quinn frowned and sat up, sitting cross-legged. "And what would that be?" she asked.

"I'll give you a hint. Long blonde hair, blue eyes, and you were in love with her."

"Emphasis on the past tense."

"You sure about that? Because whenever her name is mentioned you and Santana both get these pained looks on your face like someone stole your favorite toy."

"Wait, what?"

Tina rolled her eyes and sighed. "Go hang out with your best friend or go bug Rachel. I have studying to do," she muttered.

"No, tell me what you meant," Quinn pleaded.

"You hold Brittany to such a high standard that anyone else on your radar seems like a rebound. You came up here because of what, an interest? A crush? It doesn't matter. I won't play second-fiddle to a ghost."

Quinn recoiled and swallowed roughly at Tina's dismissal. She crawled off the bed and left the room and ran right into Rachel. The Elemental looked at the door, and then back at Quinn.

"Trust me when I say no girl wants to feel like a rebound, especially when they're competition is dead."

Quinn bit down on her tongue when Rachel walked past her and entered the room she'd just left, and she ran a hand over her face. It was one thing to be put on the spot about something she thought she was hiding, but it was another to realize they were right.

* * *

Santana was outside, stretching out her wings and lying on the patio when she felt more than heard Quinn come out to join her. Her hackles rose, an unfortunate reflex, but she wasn't feeling that usual sense of aggression.

"Do you still love Brittany?"

Well, that wasn't what she expected to hear.

"Not in the same way," she said. "Why?"

"Because I do."

Santana sighed, hearing the desperation in Quinn's voice, and got to her feet. "Come on," she said.

"Where are we going?"

"For a walk."

Quinn made a face but followed her down the stairs and into the woods. Santana had a feeling Rachel may have had something to do with the conversation they were about to have, so she opened their connection. She sent a burst of irritation to her girlfriend for blindsiding her and rubbed the back of her neck as she thought about what she needed to say to her best friend. Quinn got the worst of Brittany's influence, and it would take more than soft reassurances to break the hold.

Regardless, they were comfortable together, and Santana dropped all the pretenses she kept up around the others.

"Before you ask, the vampire is dead. He drank my blood like Tina said he would, and then he exploded. Mama's down there cleaning it now with Jennifer, and I've been banished to the backyard until she feels like I won't splatter anymore of the walls with blood."

Quinn went through several emotions, but the red spreading down her face and neck happened when she said Tina's name. Santana waited and waited, and finally, Quinn broke.

"Tina told me she didn't want to be a rebound," she blurted.

"Unhuh. That's the same thing Rachel said to me the night before last, and that conversation ended with me sleeping in your room," Santana pointed out.

"That's why you were in there?"

Santana nodded. "I told her the same thing I'm sure you're probably thinking now. 'I don't still love Brittany. I've moved on! I swear it!'" she exclaimed.

Quinn blinked and murmured, "And she kicked you out?"

"She can feel my emotions, Quinn," Santana deadpanned. "She knew I was lying before I even opened my mouth."

"Is that why you two are so iffy around one another?"

"She and I are learning how to spend time without one another, but we're fine. I told her the truth. My love for Brittany might not ever fade, but I love Rachel more. I can live without Brittany, but I can't live without Rachel, and I don't want to test that theory. She's my everything. It helped a little, but she and I are working through it together."

"But I don't love Tina," Quinn said.

Santana shook her head and stopped. "Sometimes it's not about what's happening now, but what could happen in the future. Could you see yourself loving Tina? Fully and completely? Because if you can, then you need to let Brittany go. Tina is alive and here and one of the most intelligent people I've ever met. She's beautiful, and she's willing to put her life on the line for those she cares about, you know? I think you two have the potential to be great together, but you have got to let Brittany go. And soon. She's gone, Quinn, no matter how much you might wish she wasn't. And if I'm honest, you two were toxic for one another just like she was toxic with me. Think long and hard about what you want, and when you're sure it's Tina, figure out how you can prove to her this is what you truly want and that she's not a backup plan."

Santana patted Quinn on the shoulder and left her best friend out in the woods. She could take care of herself, and there was no doubt that it wouldn't take long for the realization to settle in. Santana walked barefoot through the grass, her lips pursed in thought and barely registered the ice-covered ground until water smacked her in the face. She wiped it off with a sigh and glared at her girlfriend.

"What did you tell her?" she asked.

"The truth. If Quinn wants to be with Tina, then she has to let Brittany go."

"That's all?"

Santana reached out and tugged Rachel closer by the hem of her shirt. "I also told her that I didn't love Brittany anymore, that you were my everything," she said.

"Oh, I'm your everything now huh?" Rachel asked dryly.

"You are. I admit I should've told you the truth beforehand, but I was ashamed," Santana confessed. "I did love her, but I loved what she could've been, not what she was. I love you more than anything."

Rachel played with the hairs on the back of Santana's neck and started kissing her cheek and jaw, and up to her ear. She whispered, "You can come back to the bed tonight. If you want."

Santana snorted, poking Rachel in the side, and said, "You just want sex."

"Well, yes, I do."

"And as much as I would love to pick up where we left off, we can't. I'm going to give Quinn some time, but we have to make a little trip to the other side of town. We're going to visit a demon club. I need to put on my crown and knock a couple of heads together."

"Need or want?"

"Is there a difference anymore?"

"Not with you there isn't."

* * *

Tina searched through her closet, looking for something to wear to a demon club, and she would be lying to herself if she wasn't looking for something that would catch more than a demon's eye. Quinn's arrival through her off her game. She was content hiding and burying her crush for the angel beneath her annoyance at Brittany, but then the Seer went and died, and Quinn was starting to free herself from the blonde's grip. That meant Quinn was beginning to see Tina as more than a friend, and that left her reeling.

"You should wear the red dress."

Tina jumped and spun around, seeing Quinn sitting on the edge of the bed, and she glowered. "How long have you been sitting there?" she said.

"Long enough to see you glance at the dress four times. It'll look nice on you."

"Why are you here?"

"I like you, Tina, but I don't want to lie to you and tell you that I don't love Brittany anymore. I do, but I think you're amazing, and spending time with you over the last few weeks showed me how much of an idiot I've been by pining over someone whose biggest show of affection came seconds before she died." Quinn stood up and rubbed her hands on the dress slacks she was wearing. "I want you to know that I like you as more than a friend, and I want you to give me a chance to prove that I think you're worthy of being my only love. I would like to at least take you out on a date, whenever we get the opportunity," she added.

Tina blinked dumbly, trying to convince her brain to start working again, but by the time she was able to respond, Quinn was already gone. She smiled goofily, standing in the middle of her closet, and she bit her lip, glancing at the red dress she'd been going back and forth on wearing.

"Okay," she whispered. "Red it is."


	33. Chapter 33

**This chapter gets a bit dark, and by a bit, I mean a lot.**

 **Mistakes are mine.**

 **Love you all!**

* * *

Hades, as blatant as a name could be, ended up being a success once it was up and running.

Demons in Lima loved the club, and they enjoyed the food, the drinks, and the humans brought down for their sadistic delight. Santana had only been once, but she didn't have magic back then. They could've killed her, but thankfully, they kicked her out on her ass. She was angry and wanted to storm back in there, but common sense told her to be patient. Santana knew one day she would return, but she didn't anticipate on returning with a ragtag group of anti-heroes.

Nor with an Angel.

Hades was the closest thing to Hell on Earth, and Santana was tight-lipped about what all they would encounter for a reason: she needed them calm, not scared out of their fucking minds.

"I can feel the bass all the way up here," Simon said.

"Wait, this place is underground?"

"It's a demon club, Quinn. Where else would it be?"

"In Hell," she deadpanned.

Santana cleared her throat, watching Simon wince at how close to the truth Quinn's statement was, and changed the subject. "Stay with Simon or me. Demons are bad enough sober, but give them alcohol and drugs, and they turn into sex-crazed monsters," she said.

"Speaking from experience?" Tina asked.

"I am," Santana said, grimacing at the memory. "I went to a club similar to this during the first World War. Hades is," she paused, "different."

"How different?"

Santana ignored Tina's question and looked at Quinn, "Be close to Tina. She can block your aura while you're down there, but you have to be in physical contact."

"WHAT!?"

Santana glared at Quinn and said, "All you have to do is hold her hand, and you'll live. Let her hand go, you die. You have your sword, right?"

"Yes."

"Then you'll be fine."

The angel muttered something under her breath that Santana pretended not to hear. She rolled her eyes, kneeled, and grabbed the handle on the door buried in the dirt. Santana tugged upward, and the sudden heavy bass nearly knocked her off her feet. She glanced at Simon, seeing the same look on her brother's face, and then pulled her hair into a high ponytail. The non-demons of their little group honestly had no idea what they were walking into, and neither Santana or Simon could do the description justice.

"I'll go down first," she said. "You three come down before Simon, and he'll close the door behind you."

Santana, taking a deep breath, stepped down the stairs covered in dried blood and other liquids she didn't want to examine too carefully. Once the door slammed shut, they were bathed in darkness, and Santana was wary of introducing her girlfriend to true demon-hood so soon in their relationship. Then again, Rachel was going to see it one way or another, and at least Santana was with her. The further they went, the more screams and cries of pain they heard, and the smell of blood grew rancid. Rachel gagged and dry-heaved behind her, causing them to pause, and Santana looked over her shoulder at her makeshift family. Simon's eyes glowed red in the shadows, and there was a hint of fear and hesitancy in the depths, but he echoed the sentiment loud and clear without saying a word.

They had to keep going.

Santana shifted, keeping her wings folded against her back, and resumed their descent. Once they reached the main entrance to the club, the door nothing more than a veil, Santana swiped it aside and heard the gasps behind her.

"Welcome to Hell on Earth, ladies, and gent," she muttered.

* * *

The music was as loud as it could get, shaking the entire underground compound, and it got louder with every step. Demons were everywhere, drunk, high, and some were having sex on any surface that could hold them. Moans, screams, and shouts of pleasure filled the air, and Santana felt Simon clamp a hand down on her shoulder.

"Stay with us," he whispered.

She nodded gratefully and slid her hand into Rachel's hoping her girlfriend and her brother could ground her. It was addicting, which is why she needed the others with her, and Santana didn't want to get sucked back into the fold of wild sex, liquor, and-

Someone ripped the bottom half of her dress and felt claws scratch her thigh. She tightened her hold on Rachel and shook her head to clear the fog.

"What's it like for you?"

Santana ground her teeth, her fangs nicking her bottom lip, and she leaned down to whisper in her girlfriend's ear, "It is the touch of an old friend after years' of separation or a drug I cannot escape."

Rachel frowned and nodded, turning her attention to the Angel and the Witch behind them. Quinn was struggling, Santana could see it in her eyes, and felt guilty for manipulating her friend into coming down. Santana needed that righteous anger for what she was about to do, and she knew putting Quinn in the middle of the lion's den would tap into that power her best friend rarely used.

"Why does it affect you and not your brother?"

"Because she's been here before, just in a different location and in a different period," Simon said loud enough for Rachel to hear. "Hades moves every few decades, and once you've been here, it hooks you deep and never lets you go."

"What he said," Santana muttered, reaching out to grab a drink.

Rachel tried to stop her, but Simon stopped Rachel.

"Let her. The more she fights it, the more it affects it. We might need that depravity soon enough."

Santana drained the drink in one go, and tossed the glass at the wall, watching it shatter with a sick satisfaction. She laughed, pulling a male demon towards her, and she licked the blood from his face, smiling as his eyes glazed over.

"You smell like my first victim," she said softly, her hand snaking under his shirt.

"Wha-

His body jerked, and Santana dropped the organ she'd pulled from his body and tossed it out into the masses. He fell to the floor, and she climbed on top of the bar. With a dog whistle, the music shut off, and all eyes turned to her.

"It's the Princess!"

"What's she doing here!"

"I thought she was an exile!"

Santana wagged her finger at the voices yelling at her, their faces indistinguishable from the other. "Ah, ah, ah. How wrong you are my friends!" she shouted gleefully, jumping back down to the hardwood.

Then, she did the unthinkable.

Santana pulled Tina away from Quinn and then removed Quinn's hood. Like a white light in the middle of darkness, Quinn's angelic aura caught the attention of every demon in the club.

"SHE BRINGS AN ANGEL INTO OUR SANCTUARY!"

Santana giggled and tapped the sword at Quinn's waist. "I suggest you use this because they really, really hate your kind," she said sweetly.

"If I were a different being, I would kill you first," the angel growled, pulling the sword from her waistband.

"Love you too."

Demons attacked with a vengeance, and Quinn slew most of them on her own, but Tina jumped in with her fighting style, injuring them for Quinn to finish off, and Simon jumped in to help. Eventually, the crowd turned into two sections, and while one focused on taking out Quinn, another formed with the intent of taking care of Santana.

"You were bold to come here with this weakling," one demon sneered. "I can smell the humanity pumping through her veins. She'll be a delicious addition to our playroom. Too bad she's no longer a virgin, we do love breaking them in nice and slow."

Santana, even in her haze, twitched at the threat, and she twisted around. She turned on the faucet at the bar, kissed her girlfriend on the cheek, and ran forward, draping her arms on the demon that spoke. Beneath her, Santana could see ice as it crept along, and smiled wickedly, the alcohol she drank taking ahold of her senses.

"You smell like death," she purred.

"And you smell like a traitor," he spat.

"Aww." Santana ran her hands through his hair and yanked his head back, chuckling as he tried to move away but couldn't. "You are so brave, so honorable, to sacrifice yourself for the good of our people willingly," she whispered.

"I am no one's sacrifice!" he hissed.

"Yet you stand here in this club, partying, drinking, and fucking one another with reckless abandon while my brother walks the Earth freely! How can you say you are no one's sacrifice yet he is sacrificing you as we speak! You think he cares whether you live or die? You think he sees you as strong, as formidable? You are nothing more than pawns in his game."

"And what does that make you? Huh? Because the last I checked, you went against your own family for what, love?" Santana sneered at the comment, but let him finish, "I might be a pawn, but at least I never turned my back on my family."

"Maybe so," she said with a shrug. "However, to answer your question, I am no pawn like you, and I am no knight. I am no rook, and I am no Bishop. You, idiots, chose to follow the King, blindly, yet everyone knows the Queen is the most powerful piece of the board, and she is standing in the midst of you, protected by the same emotion you spit upon. But I digress. My love for the ones with me will not save you tonight, as I watched innocent people die because of my brother, and I have a score to settle with him."

"Nothing you do to us will matter! We have been to the Underworld, and we are not afraid of your Father. Not anymore!"

Santana grinned, letting her fangs scratch against his neck, and she responded, "I have no plans on sending your souls to the Underworld, foolish demon. You party in Hades, yet you know not what Hell is. Well, how about I give you a taste of what to expect, hmm?"

She never gave him a chance to reply and sank her teeth into his throat. Part of her felt the spike of disgust that came from Rachel and was aware enough to determine Rachel was more disgusted by the sight and not the act. She did feel a little animalistic tearing out a demon's throat with her teeth, but she also felt empowered. Santana let the body fall to the floor and held out her arms to the side. She laughed a genuine laugh, and flicked her wrist, summoning a sword to her hand.

"Allow me to re-introduce myself," she said. "My title is no longer Princess, and you no more answer to my Father! As you walk this Earth, on my domain, I command you, and you have all severely disappointed me."

"You can't beat us all!"

Santana snapped her finger, and tapped the blade in her hands, watching fire spread along the metal. "I do not plan on beating any of you," she scowled. "I plan on redecorating the walls with your blood and using your bones as furniture. How does that sound?"

Santana started swinging as she moved deeper into the crowd, and caught Simon fighting with Rachel instead of Quinn and Tina, who had disposed of their opposition. Santana, once she was sure Rachel was safe, focused her energy on the bodies throwing themselves at her, teeth bared, and claws outstretched.

She willingly let Hades pull her back into the fold, but that time, she was in control.

* * *

It was an hour later, the place wall to wall in demon limbs and organs, and Santana toasted with her brother. Rachel and the other two were home, safe and sound, as there was nothing left for them to do. At least one demon escaped, which was expected and anticipated, and also part of her plan.

How else was Solomon supposed to know about the attack?

"How long before he shows up?" Simon asked.

"Not until tomorrow, but it will not matter," she muttered, standing up. "The club will be back where it belongs in the bowels of Hell."

Simon stood to the side as she placed her hands on the bar, focused her magic, and the dried alcohol in the wood made the fire burn brighter and faster. The heat was mildly discomforting to them, and they used the back exit as the flames grew. Santana bypassed the rooms where dead or soon-to-be dead humans were lying wait for their masters or their abusers and climbed the back stairwell.

There was nothing she could do for them, not after the torture they'd been through.

"I saw Rachel's face most of the night," Simon said, pushing open the door to the above ground. "She had her eyes on you the entire time."

"Was she ashamed of me?"

"Quite the opposite. More angry that you put yourself in the middle of it all, but not ashamed. Rachel truly loves you for you."

Santana let herself smile and unfurled her wings. Simon did the same, a happy grin on his face, and they both shot into the air. Their flight would've been shorter, but they were taking their time, going slow over the town. Everyone was asleep, unaware of the carnage burning beneath their homes and their places of business, and she sighed.

"We cannot hide this from them forever!" Simon yelled. "They will know soon!"

"I know!"

Simon nodded and spread out his arms, childlike wonder on his face and Santana was too caught up with watching her brother enjoy being a demon again to hear the arrow flying through the air. They were almost home, could see it just over the tree line, when Simon cried out and dropped from the sky. Santana flew after him, reaching out for him, but he hit the ground hard enough to leave a crater. She skidded down the dirt, falling to her knees beside him, and she saw the arrow protruding from his chest where his heart would be. His eyes were glazing over, and Santana could smell the Holy Oil from where she stood.

"Simon! No, no, no," she muttered, pulling him into her arms and uncaring about the Oil getting on her clothes or her skin. "You can't leave me yet. You're supposed to be here at the end. Come on, baby boy, don't go, please. Please don't go."

Simon twitched violently, foaming at the mouth, and Santana knew he wasn't going to hold on much longer.

"HELP ME!" she screamed out. "SOMEBODY HELP ME!"

Santana ran a hand over his face and shook her head. "Don't you dare give up on me, not now, not after we've just gotten each other back," she pleaded.

Her brother gave her a look, one that was full of apologies and regret, and Santana whimpered.

"Don't you dare, Simon!" she cried, rocking him back and forth. "Don't go yet. We can save you, I promise."

The trees rustled, and Santana spun around, a fireball in hand, and Marcial came out of the woods, sword up and ready for a fight. He saw her, saw Simon, and he quickly ran down into the crater.

"NO!" she screamed at him. "DON'T TOUCH HIM!"

Marcial flinched back, his hands rising in submission, and backed away. Santana sat there, feeling the body grow limp and cold in her arms, and she buried her face in Simon's neck. The poison suffocated her, but Santana didn't care. She'd failed him, failed another sibling, and her anger bubbled in her chest. Santana summoned the one person who could help and stumbled to her feet, thinking of her father.

"GET YOUR ASS HERE NOW!"


	34. Chapter 34

**I tried not to be blasphemous. Hopefully, I managed not to offend anyone.**

 **Mistakes are mine.**

 **Italics are flashback.**

* * *

Santana and her father came to the same conclusion simultaneously, but neither one looked particularly happy about it. Simon was dying, practically knocking on death's door, and there were two options. One, they let him die and mourn him as a family, or two, an exchange. Santana had already locked them in a bubble, invisible to any who would stumble across them, and she flicked her wrist. The blade in her hands shook from the trembling of her fingers, and she twirled it once before plunging it deep into Simon's stomach. Santana counted down, waiting, and eventually, she saw his chest stop rising.

He was officially dead.

Santana moved out of the way for her father, and he kneeled beside Simon.

"I wish we were given more time," she confessed, knowing a hard heart would do no good for her in the situation.

"As do I, Child. As do I."

No other words were said, and her father placed his hand on Simon's forehead. He exhaled softly as tendrils of magic escaped from his mouth and entered Simon. She watched the exchange indifferently, making sure the block on her emotions was intact and glanced at Marcial. The former General Commander was silent, his back turned, and she appreciated the attempt at privacy. When the last bit of magic left her father and entered her brother, Santana hung her head as black smoke enveloped Simon and dragged him beneath the soil.

Her father sat on the ground, his skin sunken in and his eyes glassy, and he chuckled weakly. "Not the goodbye I was planning for," he murmured.

"They never are."

"I want you to know that you truly are my greatest accomplishment as a father and that I love you, Santana."

She closed her eyes, letting the words wash over her, and when she opened them again, her father was nothing but a pile of ashes. The wind picked up his remains and blew them into the sky, and Santana dropped to her knees. She hunched over and allowed herself to cry, to mourn the death of her father and the freedom of her brother. Simon would forever live in the Underworld, and Hell would never let her father go. She'd lost them both, but Santana would avenge them. She got to her feet and stared at a solemn Marcial, who merely offered his condolences.

Santana still had demon whiskey in her system, and she'd been good at controlling the effects, but the death of her father and the loss of her brother weakened her reserve. She looked in Marcial's eyes and said in a low voice, "One of your people shot my brother out of the sky. Will you deny me the revenge I deserve?"

"I- um, your eyes are on fire," he said slowly, backing away.

"Which should tell you how serious I am," she hissed, following him step for step. "Now, either you are with me or against me, and I would hate to be responsible for Quinn knowing the pain of losing the father she has always wanted. It is not a pleasant feeling."

"I am not sure what you are asking of me," he said wearily.

Santana removed her shoes, miraculously her heels surviving the last hour or so, and she grew to her natural height, towering slightly over the six-three Marcial. She wasn't trying to intimidate him, but she was going into a fight with angels.

At that thought, Santana reinforced the block on her emotions so that anything wouldn't leak out like before. Rachel would be angry that she left her behind, as would Quinn, but she didn't need the distractions. She also dropped the barrier around them, and the outside noise beat against her ears after the brief isolation.

"Tell me how to find them."

"I am coming with you," he said.

"Not a chance-

"Quinn would kill me if I let you go off and do this alone," he cut in. "End of discussion."

Santana scowled and flapped her wings, lifting into the air, and she warned him, "I do not plan on talking to them, and I will not hold back."

"I am well aware of what I signed up for once I aligned myself with you and my daughter," he said, jumping into the air to join her. "And I do not condone what just occurred. Your brother was a good person and did not to deserve to die in the way that he did."

"He is not dead," she muttered, ignoring his confused frown. "But I thank you for the sentiment."

* * *

Rachel was on the verge of throwing a tantrum. Foot stomps and all. Quinn paced the kitchen floor, continuously glancing at the clock, and the only people not emotionally compromised was Maria and Tina.

"You know where she is, don't you?" Tina whispered.

Maria shook her head and placed a hand over her stomach. "No, but I know something is wrong. I can't feel Lucy anymore," she said sadly.

"Lucy?" Tina repeated. "You mean-

"Yes," she said. "Him."

"You think she's okay?" Tina asked.

Maria nodded, telling Tina she believed Santana was fine and went back to making everyone's tea. Tina saw Rachel and Quinn huddled together, arguing under their breath, and she rolled her eyes.

"You would think they were both her girlfriend with the way they're acting."

"They love her equally," Maria said amusedly. "But I would give Rachel about thirty seconds before she runs out and goes to find Santana herself."

Tina saw a black blur land heavily in the front yard, and said, "She may not have too. Our resident demon has returned."

The group piled into the hallway when the door to the house opened and slammed against the wall, and the topic of their conversation sauntered in, barefoot. She dragged a body behind her. Marcial came in after, sporting similar bruises and scratches, but had a broad smile on his face.

"What the fuck-"

"-is going on here?" Rachel finished for Quinn.

Tina covered her mouth to stifle a laugh, watching Santana topple into Marcial, and she snorted when she realized they were both drunk.

"Quinnie," Santana sing-songed. "Your Dad is AWESOME!"

"Thank you?"

"We went to an angel club!" she exclaimed.

"Why?" Rachel asked, gesturing for Tina to check the state of the angel lying in the middle of the floor.

Santana's smile fell, replaced by a frown. "Simon and I were flying over the town, on our way home, when this," she kicked the still alive angel in the side, "piece of shit shot my brother out of the sky with a poisoned arrow!"

Tina froze in her examination. That didn't sound good.

"Wait, Simon's dead?" Quinn asked.

"No, in the Underworld."

"And your father?" Maria asked.

Santana gave her mother a look, and Maria nodded her head.

"I see."

"Maybe we should sober you both up and get the full story," Rachel suggested.

Tina knew the angel was still alive, but his life depended on the story Santana was about to tell. She left him on the floor, saying a quick spell to keep him breathing, and followed the group into the kitchen. Worrying about Quinn's reaction to everything, Tina grabbed her by the arm.

"Are you okay with this?" she whispered.

"Oh, yeah, I'm good. Santana wouldn't kill an angel without reason," Quinn said, shrugging. "Plus, I knew I would have to fight my kind at some point, but I'm okay."

"Just making sure."

Quinn kissed Tina on the cheek, whispering, "Thank you for asking."

Tina blushed, and nodded shortly, hurrying into the kitchen and leaving Quinn back in the hall.

Crushes were annoying.

* * *

 _Unlike Hades, the Echelon was bright and happy, annoyingly so._

 _"Angels make me sick," she grumbled._

 _"Your best friend is an angel," Marcial pointed out._

 _"I know," Santana deadpanned._

 _He shook his head, and asked, "What is it with you two? How can two people who make comments like that be best friends? I mean, are you good for my daughter or toxic?"_

 _Santana yanked on his wrist, keeping him from going further, and said, "Quinn went through shit as a child, and to keep your status, you left her in an abusive home. Russell sent her out for that stupid ritual you angels have where she would have to kill and bring back the head of a demon or a vampire. I, fortunately enough, was the demon she stumbled across first. Quinn was shit at fighting and almost died because she did not get the right training. I saved her life, and she saved mine by not telling anyone I was on Earth. We spent time together, and though we fight like angels and demons, she is my sister. We performed a dangerous spell to make sure that we stayed linked at all times because I would not be able to live if she died or got hurt. She needed a family, and so did I. We bonded, and I love her. I get it. You want to make sure she has the right people behind her. Know that she does. We fight because we love each other, and you should be concerned if we ever stop."_

 _"Okay."_

 _Santana blinked. "Okay?" she asked. "Just okay?"_

 _"Yep. I only wanted to know how you felt about my daughter," he said._

 _"You people make sick."_

 _"You said that already."_

 _Santana laughed and looked back at the club. "Why are they still in there? I thought they would have come out by now."_

 _"I have a stronger aura than you. They think there is only an angel," Marcial said._

 _"Ah. Well, I would hate to crash the party."_

 _"Then why did we come all the way out here?"_

 _"Learn how to take a joke," she grumbled, walking ahead. "You have the same sense of humor as your daughter."_

 _"I will take that as a compliment!"_

 _Santana rolled her eyes, flipping off the former Commander, and kicked down the door to the club. The angels started shouting, drawing their swords, and Santana glanced over her shoulder as Marcial came in behind her and closed the door._

 _"Now, all of you will die today, but which one of you Holy pretenders shot down a demon today?" she asked, raising her voice over the excess noise. "Tell me now, and I will think about leaving your head on your shoulders."_

 _"You traitor!"_

 _Santana frowned. "Who are you supposed to be? Have we met?" she asked._

 _"Not talking to you, bitch."_

 _"Wow. And I thought angels had to watch what they say. You know, being a soldier of God and whatnot," she said wryly._

 _"I fell, dumbass."_

 _"You sound angry," she said, faking a pout. "And you also seem like the kind of guy that has a penchant for hitting women. Am I right?"_

 _The angel swung his sword at her, and she caught the blade with her bare hand, snapping it in half. Santana took the broke piece and jammed it into the angel's neck, and said, "Guess you are not used to a woman who fights back."_

 _She pushed him down and asked Marcial in a whisper, "Who was that?"_

 _"I have no idea," he said._

 _"Pity."_

 _Marcial suddenly bent her in half, keeping her from taking an arrow to the ear, and she flipped over to get upright. Shaking off the dizziness, Santana said thank you, and Marcial gave her a fake smile._

 _"I think you and I are becoming great friends."_

 _"I think you and I have different definitions of friendship," he responded._

 _Santana waved her hand toward the bar and levitated a bottle of clear liquor over the heads of the angels and into her hand. Her eyes widened at the label, and she whistled. "Your taste in alcohol is expensive. Demons sell this stuff for still beating hearts where I come from," she said, popping the cap. "Guess you guys are good for something."_

 _Santana drank half the bottle, cringing at the taste, but at least it quieted the voice in her head, blaming her for not being able to save her brother from a life tied to the Underworld. She smiled, waving the bottle around, and said, "Now, either you tell me who killed my brother and where he is, or I burn this place down with you motherfuckers in it."_

 _No one said anything, most of them still brandishing their swords, and Santana took another swig._

 _"Have it your way then."_

* * *

Quinn held up her hand to stop the tale with wide eyes, glancing between her father and best friend with poorly disguised fear, and said in disbelief, "You two killed thirty angels? By yourself?"

"No," Marcial said, hiccupping. "She killed twenty-eight angels, and I killed two."

"And you were drunk the entire time?"

"Nope," Santana said, leaning down on the table. "I was sober up until the end. Up until I found the guy who shot Simon."

* * *

 _Santana caught movement in the corner of her eye and dropped the angel she was beating._

 _"You!" she shouted._

 _The angel stopped and started running for the exit. Santana saw the quiver on his back, the smell of Holy Oil overwhelming her, and she chased after him. Marcial was exceptional, holding his own against the last remaining angel, and Santana gladly left him behind. She sprinted after the angel, her anger fueling her speed, and she threw a fireball at his back when it seemed like he was about to fly off._

 _The wings caught on fire, and Santana threw another one at the angel's quiver, setting the arrows and the bow on fire. She was pissed off and wanted him to pay for everything that happened that night._

 _"Where do you think you're going?" she growled, tackling him to the ground._

 _Santana punched him in the face, stunning him, and she clawed at his face and neck. He screamed out when she blinded him and tried fighting her off, but she grabbed the top and bottom half of his jaw. Santana was two seconds away from tearing his face apart, but Marcial stopped her._

 _"Wait!" he shouted, clumsily grabbing her shoulder. "You cannot do this here!"_

 _"HE SHOT MY BROTHER!"_

 _"There was a failsafe at the club, one of them activated it. We must leave! There will be reinforcements soon."_

 _Santana couldn't shake the fog thoroughly, and she yelled at Marcial to go first. She ran back inside, picked up a whole bottle of liquor, and then set fire to the club. Santana snagged the half-dead angel as she jumped into the air._

 _Fucking angels and their honor code._

* * *

"And then we landed here, hence the half-dead angel," Santana grumbled.

"Think the other angels will follow you here?" Maria asked.

"Maybe, but I put a block on the house after Marcial crossed the property line," she said. "No angels can enter, but they can leave. If either Quinn or Marcial leaves, they will not be able to get back in unless I drop the block, which would let the rest in."

"Wait, so what are you going to do with the angel?" Tina asked.

Santana glanced to Quinn and sighed. "As much as I would like to set him on fire just outside the property line, have his people find him, I know that I have to ask for your permission first."

"You don't have to ask me," Quinn muttered. "I wouldn't ask if it was my family and a demon responsible."

"True."

Santana pushed up from the table, thanking her mother for the tea she didn't drink and walked out to the foyer. The angel was still breathing, in stasis, and she picked him up from the ground and hoisted him over her shoulder.

"Do you need help?" Rachel asked.

"Always if you are the one offering," she said.

Rachel nodded and opened the door for Santana. The duo made their way out the front door, and Quinn turned to her father.

"What did she mean by Simon was in the Underworld?" she asked. "I have a general idea, but I want to make sure I'm right."

"Exactly as she said. Simon is now the ruler of the Underworld," he said, his words still a little slurred. "And her father's soul went to Hell. Essentially, her father sacrificed his life for Simon's."

"Doesn't that make Simon the most powerful now?" she asked.

"Not necessarily. Santana had more power than her father, and she still does, but we have only seen glimpses. I saw part of it tonight. She picked up an angel with her bare hands and," he paused, "well, she is stronger than she looked."

"So, in essence, we should still be wary of her temper," Tina summarized.

"Pretty much."

* * *

Hayden, the new General Commander, held up his fist to stop his troops. They followed the trail up until a mansion near the edge of town. He sniffed, saw something burning in the distance, and told his men to stay behind as he went to see what it was. Hayden had only taken a few steps when he realized what was burning.

There was a cross made of ice, slowly melting into the grass, while a body burned on top of a makeshift altar. It was the angel he was tracking. There was the sound of grass crunching ahead of him, and Hayden looked up, saw a demon standing on the other side with its red eyes shining brightly.

"Get out of my town," it growled. "Or I will line the streets with the blood of your people."

"You dare threaten me!" he shouted. "Do you know who I am!?"

The fire burned brighter, forcing Hayden to stumble back, and a face appeared in the smoke. The 'mouth' opened, and shot into the sky, twisting down at an angle before swallowing Hayden whole. He screamed, the smoke surrounding him, and it felt like claws were tugging at him in every direction. There were voices, laughing and whispering all the things they wanted to do to him, and Hayden clutched his head.

 **Leave my town.**

Hayden hadn't even realized his eyes were closed, but they opened to search for the sound of the voice.

 **Or pay the price.**

The smoke dissipated, and Hayden scrambled for his sword when he saw faces hovering over him.

"Commander! Commander! Stop! It's us!"

Hayden looked around, catching his breath, and flopped on the ground.

"What happened to you? One moment you were standing in front of the fire, and the next you were on the ground screaming."

"D-did you not see the smoke? The face?" he said hoarsely.

"What face? All we saw was the altar. We put out the fire while you were out of it."

Hayden sat up with the help of his men and rubbed the back of his head. He looked around the altar, the cross nothing more than a deformed ice sculpture, and no demon.

"I swear there was a face, and a demon," he sputtered.

"Sir, maybe we should get you home and have you checked out."

"No! Something is going on down here. There is something the Council neglected to tell us when they sent us down here."

"If you say so. We will follow you wherever."

Hayden got to his feet and heard that same voice filter through his mind.

 **I told you to leave.**

 **Now you will burn.**


	35. Chapter 35

**Consider this a filler, hence why it's so short. I didn't want to break up the last few chapters because it would look weird and choppy.**

 **So, keep your expectations low about it.**

 **It's seriously more like a heads-up about what's to come and why certain characters aren't in the story anymore**.

* * *

Something was freeing about fire. The smells, the smoke, and the flames gave Santana a feeling of rebirth. She could have easily said it was because she was a demon, but that wouldn't be fair.

Santana played with the flames in her palm and watched as the fire licked at her fingertips. The inferno that burned ahead of her was bittersweet. The house her father gave her mother, the place where she grew into the person she was, and a haven, but soon-to-be nothing more than a pile of ashes. When she realized the angels weren't leaving anytime soon and that the demons would retaliate for what she did, Santana concluded Jennifer, Artie, and her mother needed to leave town.

If there was one thing she knew, she knew the demons and the angels would go after her weak spots first. Since Rachel was more than capable of holding her own, they would go for the ones that couldn't. Her mother was the last real family that she had, and she wasn't going to let anything happen to her.

"You know, I never imagined I would see the day where I would watch this place go up in flames, but I guess it comes with the territory. You know, being the mother of a demon and all."

"I wish you lived the life you wanted."

"Who's to say I haven't?"

Santana looked at her mother. "You gave birth to a child of Lucifer, forced to live as long as the child, and everyone you ever loved died a long time ago. You are stuck in this backwater town because of said child, and you dare stand here and lie to me in my face, telling me that you have lived the life you wanted?"

"And you dare stand here and pretend as if you know anything about my life before meeting your father," her mother pointed out. "You are not as smart as you think you are, my dear, sweet daughter. Powerful, yes, but you still think I got roped into this against my will. Not very smart of you, is it?"

"Who willingly sleeps with the Devil?" Santana murmured, folding her arms.

"Me. A girl who had nothing to live for in the time in which she came. A girl who saw a man who could offer her eternity for only a few months of pain. I would do it all over again. Plus, it isn't like I got the short end of the stick. Your father blessed me with a child that not only loves me but protects me despite the glaringly obvious differences between us. I'm content with my life, San, and I always have been after meeting your father. You're making assumptions that are incorrect."

Santana scowled, staring down at the woman who put up with more shit than any other human on the planet and found that she couldn't summon the right response.

"I hate when you do that," she sighed.

"What? Call you out on your bullshit? That's my job, sweetheart."

"That is the second time you have called me that, please stop."

"What? Sweet?"

"Yes."

"That's what you are. No matter how annoying, frustrating, bone-headed, temperamental…" Maria trailed off and frowned playfully, "I swear I had a point," she teased.

"I should have left you in the house as it burned."

"Unless you were in the house with me, it wouldn't have worked. I live as you live, remember?"

"A downside to my entire existence, I assure you."

"The love you have for me truly knows no boundaries."

Santana smiled and pointed at the truck idling by the house. "Go get in the vehicle, please. We will meet you guys there," she said.

Her mother blew her a kiss and jogged off to get in the truck with Jennifer, Artie, Rachel, and Tina. Santana felt more than heard Marcial and Quinn come up behind her, and they took off into the sky, heading straight for the edge of town.

* * *

Santana rolled her neck around. Jennifer and Artie were already over the line, waiting on Maria, and she blew out a frustrated breath. Santana knew it would be hard to say goodbye, but not to the point she would be near tears.

"You know, all of this is your father's fault. Had he stopped at one, the world would be a much safer place," Maria quipped. "Well, sort of. I can't say for sure if it would be safer with you at the helm."

"Not quite. I probably would have burned it down long before now."

"Comforting."

Maria stepped back slowly, smiling, and said, "This was bound to happen eventually. Especially once we discovered that little thing called a prophecy hovering over our heads."

"Our heads?"

"Mostly yours, but you came from me, so, technically we are one person."

Santana noticed her mother inching towards the line, and it took a lot of willpower not to yank her back. "I do not want you to go."

"It would seem I don't have a choice. Plus, wasn't this your idea?"

"Not one of my smartest suggestions."

Maria just gave her a look and put one foot over the town line. Nothing happened immediately, so she kept going.

"Mama," Santana said, a slight whine to her tone. "Why do you choose now to listen to me?"

"Because you finally said something worth listening too."

Santana heard Rachel and Tina snicker in the background and flipped them off with her free hand. Maria was halfway out, and Santana closed her eyes, trying to calm her heart.

The plan was for her mother to be safe out of town. The issue wasn't that Santana was afraid her mother would find harm, it was the complete opposite that bothered her. Santana was scared, terrified that her mother would find peace and happiness.

The only downside was that Santana wouldn't be with her.

"Baby girl."

She opened her eyes, looking back at her mother, and the older woman was entirely outside of Lima, resting on the cab on Jennifer's truck.

"I wish I had never suggested this," Santana confessed.

"Maybe so, but it's a good idea. We humans don't belong in this fight."

"And if I lose?"

"Then you lose, and the whole world burns because of it."

Santana refrained from stomping her foot, knowing it wouldn't get her anywhere, but she did pout. "Mama," she whined.

Maria smirked, tapping her nose, and said, "You know better than to ask me questions like that. You can only do the best you can. The stakes are higher, but the situation remains the same. You're stronger than you give yourself credit for."

"I just…what if I lose?" she asked again.

"Ah, now I get it. You're afraid of losing me."

Santana clenched her jaw, not willing to admit her mother was right.

"You won't. Your concern is appreciated, but not needed. Think of this as a vacation, and when this is all over, you're going to find me on the beach somewhere with a cocktail in hand and a nice cabana boy giving me a rub down. Or a girl. I'm not picky."

"First off, that is a disgusting image. Second," Santana stopped and stepped closer, mindful of the barrier keeping them separated, "I do not think I can do this without you behind me."

"I may not be behind you, but I am with you, baby girl. This isn't our goodbye. Just a see you later."

Santana's leg jerked back and forth, and she forced her voice not to crack as she said, "I love you, Mama."

Maria climbed into the backseat of the truck, while Jennifer got into the driver's seat. She stopped and turned, smiling, and she said, "I love you too, baby girl. And for the record, you didn't ruin my life, only made it better."

Santana clicked her teeth at the comment, and said, "As for cheesiest lines go, that was bad," she said.

"Doesn't make it any less true."

"I know, Mama. Just go before I change my mind and make you guys stay here."

Maria winked and closed the door behind her. Santana lowered until she was sitting on her heels, and she watched the taillights disappear down the road. She hung her head, pinching the bridge of her nose, and stood back up.

"You did the right thing, San."

She waved off Tina's comment, and said, "Can you guys put the gems down. Please?"

The witch nodded and tossed a blue looking stone at the town line while Rachel put a red one at the other end. They buried the gems in the dirt, placing trees and branches over them, and Santana looked up at the sky as a purple field encompassed the town like a dome.

"Are you sure this is going to work?" she asked.

"It's guaranteed to keep what's in, inside, and what's out, outside," Tina said reassuringly. "Nothing's getting in or out unless I say so."

"Good. That means no one can call for reinforcements."

"Uh, San, you know that means the remaining humans in town-

"Yes, Quinn, I know," she sighed. "I will try to limit the damage the best I can but trying to evacuate all those people would draw too much attention to what we are trying to do."

"Which is what, exactly?" the angel asked.

Santana turned towards the center of town, seeing the smoke from her home and hearing the sirens in the distance, and she unfurled her wings. "We are ending this," she said. "Tonight."


	36. Chapter 36

**If I have made a mistake, I apologize.**

 **Much love.**

* * *

Most were asleep, unaware of the chaos raging outside their homes, and those who were awake had no idea what was happening. Hunters walked the streets with rifles and knives hanging from their hips and shoulders. Police officers sped through the town, arresting looters and robbers, but with every person they arrested, another popped up. In the shadows, demons sprung forth and snatched humans who walked a little too close. Their screams were drowned out by the sirens echoing through the town, and shortly after, bright flashes of light appeared, and more screams followed.

It was War.

Angels were hunting Demons, Demons were hunting Humans, and Hunters were hunting both, unwillingly to accept either creature putting their lives on the line for anyone but themselves.

Cars ran over fire hydrants, mailboxes, and humans as they rushed towards the edge of town, but no one could leave. They banged on the barrier, crying, but the town line remained unpassable. There was one human, in particular, a single mom who had her baby in her arms, jogging through the high school parking lot. Her child was crying, and she wanted nothing more than to stop and comfort her baby, but they had to find somewhere to rest.

Growling caught her attention, and she skidded to a stop when glowing red eyes appeared out of nowhere. Several demons, fangs dripping with saliva, surrounded her. She held her child close, her own tears mixing with his, and a sudden chill wrapped around her.

"Kinda late to be out, innit?" one taunted, licking his lips.

"I think the young one's upset. Want me to hold 'em?" another said, reaching his arms out.

"NO!" she screamed. "Leave him alone!"

The demons shared a smile, and they closed in on her, each one describing what they wanted to do to her. She kissed her baby's forehead, thinking it was the end for them both, but the demon to her left screamed out as something yanked him into darkness.

"What was that?" one demon asked, looking around.

That demon vanished. Then another. And the woman watched in shock as each demon disappeared one by one. In the dark mist, a lone figure stepped out.

The woman blinked, and said, "Santana?"

"Sorry about that," the girl said, licking blood away from her lips.

"I-what is going on!"

Santana sniffed, rubbing the back of her head, and said, "That is not important. All you need to do now is go to the gym. When you get there, you will be safe. There will be food and water and blankets in case you get cold. You cannot stay out here. You and Josey are prime targets tonight."

"You just walked out of the shadows, Santana!" she exclaimed.

"Elise, please, just trust me. Just go to the gym and stay there. No matter what you hear, do not leave that gym," she warned, taking two steps back.

Before Elise could comment, Santana twirled on her foot and vanished into the darkness. It took a couple of minutes, the threat of imminent death, and the sticky hand smacking into her face to force her to move.

"Fangs, red eyes, moving shadows," Elise muttered, running toward the gym. "My old cheer captain still looks exactly the same and can teleport. Sure, not weird at all. But I'm not going to ask questions. We're just going to go to the gym and forget all about this. Right, baby boy?"

Her child gurgled in response, his toothless smile bringing her a few seconds of joy, but she took it for confirmation.

"Good. Glad we're on the same page."

* * *

Santana hated shadow traveling. As rare as she used it, the act made her dizzy and nauseous. When she was flying, she saw her former high school mate surrounded, and Santana acted without thinking. Calling forth her magic, Santana flew directly into the nearest shadow and snatched each demon with her until Elise was safe and sound. She didn't want to reveal herself to someone she knew, but she remembered Elise, and once she laid eyes on the baby, well, Santana's choice became much clearer.

Falling to the ground, Santana crashed into Rachel, and the two rolled in the grass a few feet before they managed to stop. Santana groaned and helped Rachel to her feet.

"Sorry, love," she murmured.

"Not to sound like a bitch, but what the hell were you doing? You said you would be right back! I've been worried sick about you!"

"I- an old friend was in danger," she said with a sigh. "She had her child with her, and I could not let her die."

Rachel brushed dirt and grass off her shirt, and said, "Just…give me a heads-up when you deviate okay?"

"I will. It was spur of the moment." Santana kissed Rachel on the forehead, and she looked around curiously. "Where is Quinn?" she asked.

"At the town line."

"Still?"

Rachel nodded. "Well, yeah. The more humans that flock there, the more demons that follow, which means archangels are showing up, and then Hunters are killing anyone with wings. It's a bloodbath over there. Tina and the remaining witches willing to help have their hands full with the people at the gym. We're spread thin, baby. We need help."

Santana knew that, which was why her next move would probably bite her in the ass shortly, but they needed to take the risk.

"I need you to trust me," she said slowly, kneeling to the dirt. "Can you do that for me?"

Rachel narrowed her eyes warily. "Um, I would if I didn't feel the guilt flowing through your veins at the moment," she said.

Santana dug her hands into the soil, and she muttered a couple of incantations, pouring her magic into the dirt. In the background, she heard Rachel calling her name, but Santana couldn't break her concentration.

Tina taught her years' ago about necromancy, how dangerous it could be, but Santana figured there were a few dead hunters and soldiers whose spirits had some grudges to work through. The ground shook, and Santana's eyes focused on the marked and unmarked graves that opened in the Earth. Skulls, decomposed bodies, and spirits rose from the soil, and Santana nearly collapsed from the sheer amount of souls buried in Lima.

Maybe she shouldn't have been so broad with her requests.

Tearing her hands away from the dirt, Santana climbed to her feet, and wavered a bit, leaning into Rachel.

"W-what did you just do?" Rachel hissed.

"Got us our help," she said weakly.

"This is not what I meant!"

Santana shook her head, trying to work out the voices bombarded her conscious, and she held up her hand in the air. The voices stopped, and Santana took a deep breath.

"I apologize for disturbing your rest, but I need your help. There are humans here, some of you are related to them, and others have no idea who these people are, but they are in desperate need of a savior. I cannot be everywhere at once. Can you please, please help me out here?" she pleaded.

The voices started again, but one, in particular, spoke above the rest.

"What do you need us to do?"

Santana stiffened, glancing around, and she saw the lifeless eyes of Finn staring back at her. She pushed Rachel behind her, but the Hunter gave her a dead smile.

"I'm only here to help," he said. "Just point me in the direction of some demons, and I'll make it right."

"Same here."

Santana saw Azimio come up beside Finn, and then another body, half-burnt from the neck down, and her eyes watered on their own accord at the sight of Royce. He bowed, his skin crinkling like paper as he did so, and Santana cleared her throat.

"Spread out. Some of you can go to the gym and keep the demons away. Some can go to the town line and help the Hunters. In this instance, archangels and demons are equally as dangerous. Hunters are the only people we can trust, unfortunately. You will know who to help. Keep the humans safe, no matter what," she ordered, slipping her fingers into Rachel when her energy started to wane.

Her girlfriend squeezed her hand, and Santana felt a burst of energy spread through her limbs.

"What about you? Don't you need help?" Finn asked.

Santana grimaced, knowing he was right, and she said, "I do."

"Then I'll stay with you," he said.

"Me too," Royce rasped.

Santana grudgingly nodded, knowing their sole existence depended on her magic and her staying alive, and she said, "The rest of you can go."

The spirits, ghosts, and zombie-like figures went their separate ways at various paces, and Santana hoped the tides of the War would lean in her favor.

"Are you sure about this?" Rachel whispered.

"Nope," Santana deadpanned.

"Wonderful."

"Stay here for a sec?" she requested.

"What are you about to do?" Rachel asked.

In response, Santana's eyes rolled into the back of her head, and she performed the same trick she did on the General Commander. Her magic attached to the fog in the sky, and she searched for Solomon, knowing her brother was watching the carnage. She needed to rattle him, get him to come out of hiding, and what better way to do that than make him think she was closer than she was?

* * *

Solomon perched on the top of a tree, and his eyes narrowed on the spirits flying around the town.

"Necromancy," he spat. "How irresponsible of you, sister."

But as irresponsible as it might've been, Solomon knew his sister would go and do something that would even their playing field. He stood up on the branch, his claws twitching at his sides, and he took a deep breath. Blood already stained the streets, but it wasn't enough. Solomon knew he needed to get out of Lima. The longer he stayed there, the fewer chances he had at getting out of everything alive.

"Which witch shall I take tonight?" he whispered, searching for the one he knew responsible for his prison. "Where, oh where, are you, stone-maker?"

Solomon rolled his neck around, and he tensed when a familiar scent, carried by the wind, reached his nose.

"Sister, you know better than to sneak up on me."

Turning, Solomon anticipated seeing Santana, but instead, discovered nothing but the empty sky. Spinning around, he glared at the clouds, at the smoke, and at the darkness, looking for her, but nothing.

"Where are you!?" he shouted.

Nothing.

Solomon sneered at his paranoia, and shook his head, trying to calm his nerves.

 **Are you scared, brother?**

"Never!" he roared, still looking for her.

His sister's voice echoed around him, and he carefully kept his balance on the tree.

 **You lie. I smell your fear, brother. It intoxicates me.**

"WHERE ARE YOU?!"

 **You want me? Come and find me.**

Solomon felt her presence leave, and he jumped off the branch, shooting into the air. She was taunting him, and he knew it, but oh, did he want to find her just to see the look on her face when he tears her head from her shoulders. Their relationship was complicated, tinged with hate but built on love, and Solomon understood that no matter what happened over the next few hours that either sibling would feel remorse for the loss of what could have been.

But Solomon felt no guilt for his life.

He deserved the world, and no one was going to stand in his way.

Not even his flesh and blood.

* * *

Tina ran her hands through someone's hair, keeping them calm, but the ten-year-old was beyond terrified of the monsters outside the gymnasium doors.

"Miss Tina, are we safe here?" the child asked for the third time.

"As safe as I can make it," Tina said softly. "I can only do so much for you here."

The child pouted, rolling to the side, and he said, "I want my Momma."

Tina winced, looking at the cloth-covered body in the corner, and said, "I-I know, but you- I-

"She's dead, isn't she?" he asked, tears in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," Tina stammered. "I swear we tried to help her-

"I know. Those, those, creatures bit her too many times."

Tina closed her eyes, trying to stop her heart from breaking any further, and she flinched when another demon slammed against the magically reinforced door. More screams from the humans at the thought of being killed in the worst way spread throughout the gym, and Tina knew the gems along the threshold wouldn't hold for much longer.

What could she do?

"H-Harold?!" a woman screeched.

Tina turned to the side and bit back a scream at the ghosts floating through the room. Several people called out dead relatives, all of whom seem more interested in the demons at the door, and Tina had a bad feeling that settled in her chest.

"Momma!" the child screamed, scrambling to his feet. "Momma, over here!"

Tina swallowed the bile threatening to rise in her throat. Someone was playing with the dead, and she knew who it was.

"Oh, San," she murmured.

"Teen?"

She froze.

"G-George?"

Her brother stared at her funnily, the slice along his neck making her sick, and she asked, "Why here?"

"This is where I am needed. I am only here to help," George said, glancing around. "But things are different now. I-

"Enough," she snapped, too afraid to hear his regrets. "Just do what you came here to do and leave me alone."

Her brother's ghostly visage seemed hurt and Tina almost, almost, felt bad for yelling at him, but instead, George bowed and went to join his dead comrades. Tina noticed the young child from before smiling and laughing with his mother, and she turned her head towards the sky.

"Dammit, Santana," she growled, hoping the demon felt every last bit of anger that radiated through Tina's heart.

* * *

Across town, Santana tensed as a brief flicker of something passed through her mind. It was anger, and she couldn't decide if it was hers, Solomon's, or someone else. Shuddering to herself, she pushed it out of her mind and turned to Finn, who wouldn't stop giving her weird, probing looks. Rachel and Royce were a little behind them, which was understandable. After all, Rachel was the one who killed Finn and turned him into the half-dead icicle walking with them.

"Where are we going?" Finn asked.

"The edge of town."

"Why?"

"Because despite your faults, you were noble enough to protect the human race. I can only hope you still have that nobility in the afterlife," Santana said.

"No, I meant, why are you coming with us?"

"Because despite your nobility, one of your main faults was that you believed me to be evil incarnate like my father," she spat, glaring at him.

"Are you not?" he asked. "You are his child, after all."

Hearing what he was actually saying, Santana went to attack him, but Rachel appeared out of nowhere and pulled her off to the side. Santana took deep breaths to calm down, and that was when she noticed the fear spreading through Rachel.

"What is it?" Santana asked.

"Um," Rachel paused and pointed over Santana's shoulder, "we have a problem," she said hoarsely.

Santana followed the finger, and her world was knocked off its axis.

In the sky, swirling over the town-line, were a bunch of archangels, but that wasn't what caught her attention. It was the sole angel floating amidst the crowd.

Santana's entire body erupted into blue flames.

They had Quinn.


	37. Chapter 37

**Author's PSA:**

 **Please don't think I've forgotten this story. Depression and work have kicked my ass the past couple of weeks, and I've only just gotten myself back on track. Please stick with me as there are only a couple of chapters left. I'm still extrememly sorry about this, and if you decide to move on, I completely understand.**

 **Thank you regardless,**

 **TM**


	38. Chapter 38

**Though I'm struggling with my own personal demons, I want to finish this story for my sake and yours. I appreciate those who stuck around and with me with the story.**

 **I truly love every one of you. The mistakes are mine.**

 **TM**

* * *

Solomon remained hidden in the trees, watching incredulously as the Archangels hovered around the Fallen that hung with his sister. Quinn, he believed her name was. Right below them was another Fallen, restrained by three angels and another with a sword resting against his throat. From where he stood, Solomon could see the blood slowly dripping down the pale neck of the Fallen, and he clicked his tongue against his teeth. He was all for playing to his enemy's weakness, but not at the risk of his health. Going after his sister's best friend was bold, for him, but for them, it would only end in their ashes floating away in the wind.

Speaking of which…

Solomon turned slightly, sniffing the air, and he began to back away into the trees. He smelled sulfur, stronger than any scent around him, and it was almost suffocating. He squinted into the distance, seeing a familiar blue flame shooting towards his location, and Solomon unfurled his wings.

He would bide his time and watch the show. Fewer angels were always a plus-side in his book.

* * *

Rachel could barely keep up with Santana. The demon was moving faster than the speed of sound, which was why Rachel covered her ears when it finally caught up with them once they stopped. The sonic boom shook the Earth, and the few angels unaware of their arrival lost their balance long enough for a whip of fire to wrap around their torsos, incinerating them instantly. Rachel shot off a few snowballs as merely a distraction, knowing it was Santana's show and she was just a guest star.

"RELEASE HER!" Santana roared.

Three angels, as bold and brazen as ever, shot arrows at Santana that disintegrated as soon as they left the quiver. It was as if there was a shield surrounding her, and for all Rachel knew, there very well might've been.

"If you thought she was angry the first time," Rachel murmured. "Then imagine what shooting arrows at her might've done to her mood."

There was a pause, where it seemed the tension around them would grow, but instead, it lessened to the point Rachel felt like hiding in the woods until it was over. Of course, that could've been because only Rachel could see the complicated hand movements Santana was performing behind her back.

"I will ask only once more," Santana hissed.

What seemed like sentient shadows twisted and swirled around Santana's wrists, and Rachel dug her heels into the ground. She had no idea what was about to happen, but she was not going to be caught off guard by it.

"Give. My. Sister," she growled, cocking her head to the side, "Back. To. Me."

"She is not your-

Rachel, even with her heels set and a sense of awareness about her, performed quick magic to keep from being blasted clear through the woods. The ice wall cracked, parts of it shattering into pieces, but otherwise, Rachel remained unharmed. She peeked through one of the holes in her barrier, and nausea bubbled in her throat. Arcing her hand downward, the ice wall melted, and the stench hit her head on.

Further up the way, Quinn and Santana were wrapped in an embrace while Marcial watched from where he sat on the ground. Rachel could see bits and pieces of the angels littered along the dirt, a finger here and an arm there, but she focused on her girlfriend to keep the disgust at bay. Santana turned slightly, pulling back from Quinn, and she met Rachel's eyes curiously; the unspoken question being 'are you okay?'

Rachel shrugged, gesturing aimlessly around the field as if to ask if it was necessary, and Santana flushed. She caught a brief flash of embarrassment and guilt through their connection before realizing Santana didn't mean to cause as much damage as she did. Though Rachel wasn't sure if discovering the destruction was instinctual on her girlfriend's part made her feel better or not.

Santana's life was tied to her magic, and if there was another instance of her magic taking over without warning, then what would be the odds of Santana surviving the next magical outburst? It made her heart drop into her stomach like a stone, and she swallowed the initial bout of fear in favor of the anxiety coursing through her veins. To keep Santana's concern at bay, Rachel focused that energy on getting rid of the rest of their adversaries. The last thing she needed was to distract Santana with an unfounded worry over something that may or may not happen in a situation where Santana had enough weight on her shoulders.

Lips pressed against her forehead, and Rachel subconsciously relaxed into Santana's arms, forcing her thoughts back into the recesses of her mind.

"You still with me?"

"Always."

* * *

Tina was having a hard time focusing on the children with all the undead waltzing around the place. It was frustrating, and she eventually stood in the middle of the gym and whistled to get the attention of every living, and slightly unliving, thing in the room.

"Look, I appreciate your help, but you guys are doing more harm than good," she started. "You are here for protection, and protection alone, not to hash out conflicts and regrets you took into the afterlife. I don't have the time or patience to deal with family drama and the demons slowly but surely making their way into the only safe place left in this town. Please, I beg of you, stop antagonizing the living and go piss off the supernatural."

It took a moment for her words to sink in, and when they did, some of the humans shot her grateful smiles. Apparently, they were trying to make amends for things that happened in the past. Ancestors were regaling their surviving family members with tales that held no place for the situation at hand, and whether it was a welcome distraction or not, Tina knew that keeping them calm would only last for so long. The demons were breaking through her barrier, she could feel every hit as if they were personally beating her chest, and she would eventually have to release her magic to save her energy.

"Te-Tina," George said, coming up beside her. "I have an idea on what we can do, but it's risk."

"What is it?" she asked.

"Possession."

"What?! Hell no!"

"Look, it's tricky, but demons are still living beings despite their heritage and genetics. At least let me try," George pleaded.

Tina glared at him, knowing he was only suggesting it because he felt guilty, but it was a good plan if it worked. She nodded curtly, and her brother floated through the floor and out of the gym. She rubbed her face, cursing her brother, the undead, and Santana for bringing them into her life, and went back to making sure everyone had blankets and enough water.

She just hoped the plan worked.

* * *

Deep beneath the Earth, in the bowels of Hell, Lucifer laid on a platform of raised rock. He had multiple scratches and bruises littering his chest, gashes along his legs, and a multitude of broken bones. His torture lasted only for a moment before the demons roared in celebration and vanished one by one. His body slowly healed itself, an unfortunate side effect of his realm which ensured he suffered at the hands of his creations for an eternity, and he exhaled softly, enjoying the brief respite.

"I never thought I would see the day where you would be here."

Cracking open one eye, Lucifer stared at his youngest, and said, "The sentiment can be shared with you, Simon."

"You know you can leave at any time, yes? All you have to do is ask."

"And go where? Live in the shadows of the Underworld? I would rather stay here."

"And be tortured for all eternity because of your formal title? How foolish does that sound?" Simon spat.

"I assume you have a better plan? Because if not, then you cannot condemn me for my decision. Especially since I saved your life."

"Ignoring the obvious guilt trip you are unsuccessfully trying to perform, I do have a better plan, one that would make both me and your daughter happy."

Lucifer opened his other eye and narrowed them. "What plan would that be?" he asked.

Simon grinned mischievously and blew strange colored dirt into his face. Lucifer sat up, sputtering, and Simon patted him on the shoulder.

"Good luck in the human realm, father. I imagine you'll enjoy the fruits of your labor."

"What does that even mean?"

"It means, you'll get a second chance at being the Dad you should've been. You'll have no magic, but you'll have experience, and I hope you put it to good use once you get there."

Lucifer felt dizzy, and he glared at his son. "Get where?" he slurred.

"Home."

* * *

Santana was halfway to the gym when she spun around and grabbed the person behind her by the throat. She released her grip quickly and stumbled back.

"Dad?"


	39. Chapter 39

**A/N: Character Death**

* * *

Lucifer, in hindsight, should've seen it coming. Groaning to himself, he cursed Simon and then swore at his daughter before straightening up and subconsciously rubbing his stomach after the hit. The Archangels around him hesitated, but he could see they forced themselves to relax in the presence of his daughter. There was a weird looking zombie-like character hovering in the background with scorch marks along his skin, and Lucifer decided it would be better not to ask. He glanced around, seeing where he'd landed, but it was apparent he was back in Lima. Had it not been for the fires, screaming, and general sounds of chaos, he still would've known he was in Lima due to the sheer disgust he felt being there longer than a few minutes.

"Father, how, and why, are you here?"

Lucifer sniffed, folding his arms, and he said, "Your brother sent me back."

"My…brother?" she repeated. "Surely you don't mean Simon?"

"I do. He is alive and well, too weak to go beyond the Underworld, but he thought it would be best if I spent the rest of my days up here with you."

Santana made a face. "Why would he think that?" she asked.

"Because being an asshole runs in our family," her father deadpanned.

Their conversation paused as an explosion went off in the distance, and they chalked it up to the general chaos around the town. Santana looked back at her father, and huffed, "Look, I made my peace with you being dead, and now you're back, alive. I don't need this right now. I can't even-

She stopped and shot her arm out to the side, grabbing hold of a ghost just as he materialized.

"Why aren't you at the gym as I instructed?" she asked.

The ghost shimmered for a moment before he said, "It exploded."

Before she could ask any more questions, the spirit vanished into the night, but Santana wasn't paying much attention.

"They blew up the gym," she repeated slowly. Something was nagging at the back of her mind, something important, but it was Quinn who connected the dots.

"Um, wasn't Tina was in the gym?" Quinn said, her voice still weak from the experience with the other angels.

Santana twitched, and like before, blue flames surrounded her as she copied the disappearing act of the ghost, leaving behind the others.

* * *

Lucifer stared at the spot where his daughter once stood, and said, "Does she do that often?"

"What? Leave without telling anyone where she's going?" Quinn asked.

He nodded.

"More often than you think."

He frowned. "Well, I assume we should go after her to make sure she does not go and down something stupid. Again," he said.

The group shared a collective sigh and made the rest of the long trek back to town. He would've suggested flying or using magic, but they all looked winded, and the angels' wings seemed broken, at the very least sprained. One of Simon's final words echoed in his mind, and Lucifer stumbled in his stride, waving off the zombie who tried to keep him from falling.

He was no longer immortal nor magical.

He was human, and that scared him more than the thought of Solomon winning.

* * *

Tina kept her eyes closed, listening to the chaos around her. A piece of the wall pinned her down to the floor, putting pressure on her chest, and she knew at least three ribs were broken. Not to mention the fact she couldn't feel her legs. There was crying around her, screaming, and the smell of smoke did nothing to mask the scent of blood. She had no idea what happened. One moment, George was trying to possess a demon, and the next, the building caved in, and Tina was blown back into the far wall.

She remembered lying on her stomach, watching blearily as demons ran in and dragged whoever was still alive out into the parking lot. The ghosts were nowhere to be found, not even her brother and Tina scoffed.

"Even when I need you to be here, you're not here," she'd muttered to no one in particular.

She turned over, ready to pull herself to her feet to get out of there when there was a groaning sound, and Tina was too slow to move out of the way. Something cracked once the wall fell, and Tina knew better than to call for help. She didn't know how long she'd laid there, but she knew if she didn't get help soon…

Something warm touched her cheek, and she panicked. She didn't even remember falling asleep. Tina opened her eyes, ready to scream before she recognized the red eyes staring down at her.

"San?"

The demon nodded and looked away for a moment before she winced and whispered. "I can't move the wall."

Blue fire danced across her fingertips as she caressed Tina's cheek, and Tina heard what wasn't being said.

"It's the only thing keeping me alive this long, isn't it?" she whispered back.

Santana didn't answer, but instead, kneeled beside her. "What happened?" she asked, changing the subject.

"I don't know," Tina said softly, saving her energy. "I only heard the explosion."

"Where are the ghosts?"

Santana's question went unanswered as Tina began to cough up blood, and she felt Santana wipe away the blood once she finished. She grinned weakly at the act, and as she took another breath, black dots crept into her vision.

"I never told you this, but without you, I don't know where I would be," Santana said. "You kept me sane. You, a witch with no true coven, a loner, who managed to make me feel like I had a family. You made my supplements. You listened to me as I spoke nonsense. You argued with me and made me angry, but you protected me from myself and from others. Quinn might be my sister, but you, Tina, are truly my best friend. I should have told you this many, many times, but I let pride get in the way."

Tina coughed up more blood, choking as it filled her throat with no other escape, and she wanted to be angry. She was supposed to survive, for Santana and for herself, to prove she could do it.

"You lasted longer than I thought you would," Santana teased, just like she was reading her mind. "You should be proud. Your brother and family didn't last long enough to see the war come to fruition, but you did. You discovered Mike was a traitor. You helped me summon Simon. You, despite how I originally felt, organized a way for me and Rachel to be together through more than a title. You helped bind our souls together, regardless of how you went about it. You, Tina, are one stupidly brave, talented witch that, in another lifetime, would've been front row and center as I saved the world."

Tina shot her a look at the last part, but Santana ignored her, a distant look in her eyes, and she placed a hand on her forehead. Heat spread across her skin, and Tina knew what raw magic felt like. Santana began to whisper in a dead language, the words sounding like grunts and groans, and when she finished, Santana kissed her on the cheek.

"The Underworld will take care of you," she said softly. "I swear my life on it."

Tina frowned in pain and confusion as Santana spoke, not knowing what it meant, but her frown deepened as even pinned by a cement wall, her back arched high off the ground. What felt like a hand reached into her chest and tugged hard, causing her world to go black.

* * *

Santana waited until she was sure Tina was gone and safe before she bowed her head. There was no need in crying, but irrational anger bubbled inside of her. Santana was foolish to believe Tina would be safer protecting the humans than out with her in the town. Putting all of them in one location was like a buffet for the demons, taunting them, and Santana should've known that whether dead or alive, humans were a prize worth collecting. She also understood that delving into necromancy was a terrible idea, as the ghosts were useless at the end of it all. They did nothing but delay the inevitable.

Her mind faded into madness, and she was losing her sense of reality, but despite all of that, Santana knew she needed to fix one of the mistakes she made. Since the demons had all but abandoned the gym, their hunger sated, for the time being, Santana summoned every soul she'd brought back to life. She heard their muted whispers and groans, and she stared at them blankly as they shimmered into sight. Her guilt ran wild in her heart, as what good were corporal beings when they couldn't even touch a doorknob, let alone a human. It was a mistake, a waste of energy, and if Tina were alive, she would've-

Santana stopped that train of thought and shook her head.

"I made a mistake," she said in a low voice tinged with sadness. "I should have done something different, should have asked before I made this impulsive decision, but there is nothing I can do about it now. Tina's death is on my hands, and now, I have no more use of you. You will return to the depths of Hell from which you came, and I will accept the consequences of my actions from whatever being deems it necessary."

Santana straightened her posture, clenched her fists, and reversed the magic she used to summon them. The ghosts went in and out like static on a television. Their screams sounded like white noise to her as the ground opened up beneath them, hands reaching out to drag them down where they came from. Some resisted, clawing at the wooden ruins of the building, and a few tried lunged forward to attack her, but they couldn't come close. The winds picked up around her, blowing dust into her eyes, but she kept her focus. A tornado of air sucked the remaining spirits and bodies down, and Santana waited until she was sure they were gone before she forced herself to relax.

Tina's death hit her hard once the moment settled.

Growling, Santana scrambled off the floor, backing away from the body, and she sprinted out of the gym. Santana spun around, searching with her senses and her magic, and when she located an extensive collection of demons, she was about to go after them when ice encased her legs and ankles. She yelped and would've hit the cement had it not been for the hand gripping the back of her clothes.

"ENOUGH!"

Santana swallowed roughly and twisted around the best she could, seeing her girlfriend standing behind her with a fury in her eyes she'd never seen before.

"Rach-

"NO!" she interrupted. "You will NOT run off again to go half-cocked into a fight! This is a GROUP effort, and though you are the only person who can hold her own against them, you will not attack them ALONE. We have to plan this out, Santana. We're not here for emotional support! Especially not me! This is three times you were going to leave me behind, THREE, and this time could've easily been your last and then what? Huh? Then what! Had you gotten distracted for a second, and gotten yourself killed, there would be nothing left of me! I would literally die without you, Quinn would die because of who she is, and your father-

Rachel stopped and changed course, "Look, we're your family. I can tell you're in pain, and I can only assume that Tina didn't survive, and I know once this is over, we will properly mourn her, but we can't let our anger get us killed, or she would've died for no reason. Take a deep breath, think very hard about your next actions, because it could easily be life or death for all of us, not just you."

The ice melted around her ankles, and she had half a mind to say fuck it and run off, but it would seem her thoughts were projecting because Rachel slapped the back of her hard enough to rattle her.

"I will bury you in ice and leave you there until you freeze to death, consequences be damned, if you do the complete opposite of what I just said," she threatened.

Santana huffed, knowing Rachel was positively serious, and she nodded slowly. "Fine. What exactly do you have planned?" she growled.

Rachel blushed red and sputtered, "Well, we do-don't have one, technically, but the point still remains!"

Santana narrowed her eyes. "You iced me, slapped me, and read me the riot act, and you don't even have a plan?" she hissed. "Really?"

"In my defense, I was more worried about your impulsivity than what comes next."

"How about we find the rest of the Hunters, for now, and organize with them? There should be some left around here somewhere," Quinn suggested, knowing an argument was brewing. Then she paused, and added, "Speaking of Hunters…what happened to Finn? One moment he was there, and the next, he was gone."

"I sent them back," Santana said distractedly, still glaring at Rachel. "I was wrong to bring them here."

"Now I know the world is ending for you to admit you were wrong."

Santana touched Rachel's neck with her index finger, and her girlfriend jumped back, smacking her hand away.

"What the fuck was that?!" Rachel screeched.

"A warning," she growled. "You only get one."

"You-

Quinn cleared her throat and said quickly, "Okay, let's go find the Hunters if there are any left, and use them to take care of our demon problem."

"Fine, but I'm not happy about this."

"At this point," Rachel huffed, "we don't care."

Santana scowled, ready to respond when her father dragged her by the elbow and away from Rachel. He patted her on the arm and said, "You know she is right, and there is no point in arguing with her."

"That doesn't mean I have to like it."

"You do not have to like it, but you have to accept it."


	40. Chapter 40

**A/N: Mistakes are mine. Thankfully, this story is almost over. I appreciate each and every one of you, old and new, for sticking with me. It's been a real struggle getting these last few chapters out.**

* * *

Santana and the others saw the horde of demons gathered in one spot. It had to at least be a hundred of them, each one taking their turns tearing into the bodies of their victims with reckless abandon. They hid behind a house that hadn't been destroyed, and Santana licked her lips at the sight. Rachel noticed and slipped her hand into hers, but Santana couldn't fight it. It was too many, too close, and she felt like she was back in the club. The bloodlust intensified the longer she stayed there, and Santana walked forward, intent on joining in. Someone yanked her from behind, and slapped her across the face, jarring her from her trance.

"Have you not grown immune to it yet, child?" her father hissed.

Santana blinked and looked down, ashamed. Her father sighed and muttered an apology but it was Marcial who stepped forward. He whispered something in Latin, and the rhythmic chanting of the demons faded into white noise. She felt herself relax. When he removed his hands, she gave him a small smile.

"Thanks," she said.

"The block is temporary, something I learned back in the day. But whatever we plan to do, we need to do it quickly."

"Well, unfortunately, our plan is up in the shits," Quinn murmured. "Those are the Hunters. I can see their weapons discarded on the other side."

"They beat us to them," Marcial said.

"It would appear that way," Lucifer replied. "Now what do we do?"

Santana twitched. "We do what we came here to do, with or without the Hunters."

"We have to be mindful of that," her father said. "Your brother more than likely bonded himself with them. He would know they're being attacked."

"Do we have to attack them? All we need is for them to be out of the picture," Santana mused.

Rachel and Quinn, along with Marcial, frowned in confusion.

"It's simple," Santana said. "All demons answer to one being, and that being currently resides in the Underworld. If he's powerful enough to strip my father of his magic and return him Earth-side, I imagine he's powerful enough to take back the gift Solomon irresponsibly gave to these hell walkers."

"I'm still confused."

Santana patted Quinn on the arm before she dropped down to the ground, crossing her legs. She turned her hands until her palms were facing the cement, and she gave her father a loaded look.

"I will not let your body come to harm," he promised.

"Wait, what are you-

"Rachel," Santana interrupted her girlfriend gently. "This is not me going half-cocked into a plan or leaving you behind. This is genuinely only something I can do as I am the only demon, minus my brothers, who can travel to the Underworld through our spirits and not just our body. I know I've asked you this a lot of the past few days, but I need you to trust me this time. I'll be back, I promise."

Rachel folded her arms, still unhappy, but she said nothing else. Santana knew once it was all over she was going to have to spend a lot of days groveling for forgiveness, but she would worry about that later. Santana sent Rachel as much love as she could muster before she closed her eyes and allowed her soul to sink beneath the Earth.

* * *

Simon, still getting used to knowing what happens in the Underworld, was shocked when his sister, or her soul, drifted over to him. He hesitated, not really knowing what to say, but she held up her hand and shook her head.

"We don't have time to talk about what happened but one day we will. I'm here for something else," she said.

"What could I possibly help you with?"

"I know you can't travel upward yet, and that your magic is limited to what happens down here, but I have to ask if you're capable of recalling demons to their rightful place in Hell?"

Simon frowned but thankfully he knew what she was asking. "I mean, I can, if I knew how to reverse the ritual Solomon used."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, he performed a blood ritual that allows any demon, whether in Hell or the Underworld, to freely travel to and from Lima, and eventually the rest of the Earth. I haven't been able to come up with a way to reverse it without needing his blood."

Santana stared at him. "You're an idiot," she huffed.

"HEY!"

"Simon," she said slowly as if she were talking to a child. "Our brother used his blood to perform a ritual. HIS. BLOOD."

"Repeating it doesn't make it any easier to figure-

He stopped and face-palmed. "Solomon used his blood, something we all share in common, meaning I can use mine to reverse it," he murmured.

"Oh, goodie, I knew you'd figure it out eventually. Now," she gestured aimlessly, "show me where the ritual was performed and let's get this show on the road."

"I think I liked you better when I was alive," he said dryly.

"That's the sweetest thing you've ever said to me."

Simon rolled his eyes and led his sister to where Solomon did his handiwork, keeping the conversation light and avoiding any talk about what happened after his death.

* * *

Solomon heard the explosion like everyone else, and he scowled at the dramatics. They were nothing but wild animals, but they got the job done. As Solomon hopped from roof to roof, he sniffed to see if there were any humans still alive in the area. He was mid-jump when the brand mark over his heart began to literally peel off his skin. He screamed out, and Solomon crashed through the house and landed on his back. The pain in his chest was unbearable, and he clawed at his body to try and get rid of whatever was burning through his skin down to his bones.

* * *

Santana returned to her body and stood to her feet. She rolled her neck around, feeling odd at having so many people in her mind.

"Who is that?" Rachel whined, grasping her head. "And why are they so loud?"

Quinn was no better, digging her fingers into her ears and stomping her feet on the ground. "Santana, what the hell did you do!" she screeched.

"And since when do you have two sets of wings?" Lucifer asked warily.

"Just wait," Santana teased, jumping into the air. "It'll be something worth waiting for, I assure you."

* * *

Solomon's screams echoed through the empty home but were soon drowned out by a booming voice:

 **"DEMONS BELONG IN HELL, AND HELL IS WHERE YOU SHALL RETURN!"**

* * *

Santana could see why Solomon enjoyed having control over the demons. It was exhilarating, but it was even better knowing what it was doing to her brother. The ritual was extensive, but Santana was determined to break it down and turn it against her brother, which was exactly what she did. She spread her arms out, and then slammed the palms of her hands together just as Simon taught her.

Instead of sending them back to the Underworld, Santana wanted to deal Solomon a crucial blow to his 'army.'

 **"DEMONS BELONG IN HELL, AND HELL IS WHERE YOU SHALL RETURN!"** she bellowed.

Even from her perch in the sky, she could see what was happening to the demons below. Flames rose up from the Earth, surrounding the demons, and Santana could see tormented souls reaching out to grab hold of them. Their screams gave her a sick sense of pleasure, and she grinned as some of the demons fell down like puppets cut from their strings. So caught up in the bloodshed, Santana was unaware of the pain she was causing two of the people she loved the most.

* * *

Quinn and Rachel were both on the ground, writhing in pain, and Lucifer did the safest thing he could think of; he picked up a piece of wood and knocked them out.

"Really? If I didn't know that gave them relief, I would've killed you just for that."

Lucifer dropped the wood and shrugged. "I would rather them have a massive headache because of a head wound than because they were listening to the death of hundreds of demons."

* * *

Santana, once she was sure they were all dead, placed her hand over her heart, and dug her nails into her skin. She took two deep breaths before she peeled the branding away from her skin, biting through her tongue to keep from screaming. Santana lowered herself back to the ground, burning the ritual mark as she did so. She gagged a little at the smell but figured the pros outweighed the cons.

Landing on her feet, Santana folded her wings, glad to note she was back to one set instead of two. She frowned at the sight of her girlfriend and best friend passed out on the ground.

"What happened to them?"

"You mean before or after I knocked them out?" her father asked.

"Both."

"Well, they were suffering from all the chaos, and I figured unconsciousness would be better than that."

Santana winced. "They're going to be pissed when they come too, aren't they?" she whispered.

"If Solomon doesn't kill you first, they will."

* * *

Solomon, once he realized what had happened, rose out of the rubble with black flames swirling around him. He shot into the air with a target in sight, and a low growl bubbled in his chest.

"SANTANA!" he roared.


	41. Chapter 41

**Mistakes are mine.**

* * *

What are the odds of me surviving this? Santana thought, turning around as Solomon crashed into her chest and sent her flying through the trees. Branches smacked her in the face, and she somehow got spun around mid-air, catching a mouthful of dirt as she slammed face first into the ground. She groaned, feeling every last ounce of the impact by her brother, and slowly got to her feet.

The next hit was as powerful as the first, and Santana's head snapped back so hard she was afraid she'd broken her neck, but thankfully she crumpled back to the ground with only a massive headache.

"No more games!" he snarled.

Santana needed a moment to catch her breath. Just one. She grabbed a handful of soil and tossed it in the general direction of her brother, distracting him long enough to get to her feet.

"First," she wheezed. "We have not been playing any games. Second, you should not have placed your hope in a blood ritual that does not know the difference between you and-

She ducked the fireball aimed for her head and blew a strand of hair out of her face. In the back of her mind, she knew Quinn and Rachel were awake, pissed off, and currently running through the woods to find her. She also knew Solomon would be vindictive enough to try and hurt one of them. Santana reached down, grabbed a broken branch, set it on fire and threw it over Solomon's shoulders. Once it landed in the bushes, the flames sparked quickly, and Santana flicked her hand. Another fireball shot in her direction, and she allowed it to get close enough to singe her cheek, but ultimately missed out on getting burned after she swiped it aside at the last minute. Her focus allowed her to spread the fire along the edge of wherever they were, creating a barrier – albeit a temporary one – around them.

"I had it all planned out. And you have done nothing but ruin my plans!"

"Are you looking for an apology?" Santana said, distracted by the pain in her chest. "Because you will not get one from me."

"ENOUGH TALKING!"

"Says the guy who keeps talking," Santana taunted.

She set her feet as her brother ran into her head-on, bending her back so far that her shoulders brushed against the ground, but Santana flipped them over so that Solomon was lying flat on his back. She stepped down hard between his legs, digging her heel into his groin, and she heard Rachel calling out her name. Ignoring her girlfriend, for the time being, Santana jumped up to avoid the hot hands of her brother, but Solomon caught her in the side and sent her flying into the inferno roaring around them.

Santana heard her ribs crack, and thankfully, since the fire came from her hands, it did nothing but make her uncomfortably hot. She stood up, letting the flames roll off her body, and she caught the arrow before it connected with its target.

"Where the hell did you get arrows from!"

"I have magic," he mocked.

"That was NOT my question!" she snapped, stepping through the scorched Earth.

Another arrow flew through the air, the wind alerting Santana to its arrival, and she batted it aside, but the second one slipped past her senses and landed in her thigh. Huffing, Santana shot out her right wrist, and her sword moved into her grasp. She waved it in a wide arc while simultaneously snapping her index finger and thumb. The area around her darkened until it was black smoke swirling around her body, and she stepped back into the mini-tornado.

Within the safety of her magic, Santana broke the arrow in her thigh, tossing it to the side, and she felt Solomon trying to get through. She manipulated the winds, allowing her to move as if she were made of air, and she unfurled her wings which made it a lot easier for her to shoot upward into the sky as Solomon's hand broke through. Santana's short relief at escaping her brother turned into fear as she looked down and noticed Rachel and Quinn flying over the barrier. Solomon saw the same, and he turned his efforts on them just as Santana predicted. Rachel took the first hit, but Santana frowned when the fire went through her instead of at her. Quinn rose into the air, expertly dodging whatever Solomon threw at her. Not taking too much time to spectate, Santana reached behind her, wrapping her magic around a tree, and yanked the nearest one from its roots. The trick she stole from Mike, but the intent stemmed from a strong urge to treat her brother's head like a baseball and knock it clean off his shoulders.

Unfortunately, it didn't quite work that way, but her brother got a first-hand taste of how it felt to be body-slammed into a tree. Coming back down to the ground, Santana yelped as she was hit with a face full of ice-cold water, emphasis on the ice. Santana glared at her girlfriend, and Solomon took full advantage of her distraction. He sprinted forward, nothing more than a blur, and Santana hissed in pain as the fire burned into her neck. His claws pierced through her skin, and her sword dropped from her fingers. With Solomon directly in her line of sight, Santana was able to stare directly into his black eyes, knowing that despite the lack of color she could see the rage coming deep from his soul, and she knew she would have to do something drastic to get him to let go. Remembering a downside to her being a demon, Santana took a deep breath, opened her mouth, and then expelled hot sulfur into his face.

Solomon screamed out, dropping her, and Santana placed her hand against her throat. Every breath caused her to cough, and when her brother suddenly jumped up and lunged forward, she reflexively brought up her knee. She grimaced slightly as his nose practically snapped clear off his face but decided to cause him pain overrode her discomfort. Santana gripped the dangling appendage and ripped it the rest of the way off, incinerating it in her palm after doing so. Blood poured out of the gaping hole in Solomon's face, and Santana re-summoned her sword. She almost had a clean swipe at his neck, but Solomon knocked it off its course with his bare hand. Taking off a nice little chunk of his hair, Santana followed through with the movement with her elbow and felt it connect with something soft.

Solomon's head snapped to the side, and Santana moved to deal the final blow, but the sound of someone grunting forced her to twist awkwardly as Quinn crashed into the Earth by Solomon and embedded a broken branch deep into his right shoulder. She smiled, ready to thank Quinn for the help when an invisible force knocked Quinn to the other side of the woods. Santana's eyes widened when Solomon, noseless and a piece of wood buried deep in his body, shot into the air, taking Santana with him.

His magic curled around them both, and Santana caught Rachel's eye just as she and Solomon vanished.

* * *

The connection she felt with Santana, that feeling of always having someone with her, shuddered for a bit, like static on a television. Rachel rubbed at her chest, trying to find that familiar warmth that came with being bonded to the demon, but it was faint. Rachel let Quinn pull her to her feet, and the two of them shared a look before they glanced at the sky.

* * *

Santana only had a few seconds to orient herself before she unfurled her wings and kept herself airborne. Solomon flew behind her, scratching at whatever skin he could, and Santana cried out when he deepened the wound in her thigh. Losing feeling in her leg, Santana gripped Solomon's wrist as he tried to pass, and dug her nails into his skin. She tore through muscle, nerves, and finally, she was able to feel her nails brush against each other. Santana ripped off the entire hand and flung it to the side. Solomon then returned the favor by taking his fist and punching her stomach. His hand came out through her back, and as blood pooled in her mouth, Santana spat it in his face before she pushed him back. With his hand out of her stomach, Santana tried to cauterize her wound, but it didn't help. It kept bleeding.

Santana spat up more blood. Her vision blurred, but she recovered long enough to stop Solomon from going for the kill shot. He managed to claw her face, blinding her in her right eye, and then there were hands ripping at her wings. Santana felt one break, and she found herself falling.

* * *

Rachel felt a phantom pain in her stomach. "Toss me," she demanded.

"What?"

"Toss me up there!"

"Hell no!"

Rachel glared and screamed, "TOSS ME NOW!"

Quinn grunted, picked up Rachel and threw her as hard as she could. Rachel summoned the water from the clouds to create ice platforms. Rachel bounced higher and higher, but she panicked when she saw Santana start to fall. Taking a significant risk, Rachel got rid of her own platform and sent one to Santana. She grimaced when her girlfriend crashed through the ice, but it seemed Quinn finally remembered she could fly.

* * *

Santana cried out when she hit the ice. White wings flashed beside her, and arms wrapped around her waist. Her descent slowed, and Santana leaned heavily into her best friend.

"Fuck, you're heavy," Quinn grunted.

Santana slurred out a smart remark, but unfortunately, Solomon tackled them mid-air and practically peeled the angel away from Santana. Solomon flew away with Santana in his arms, and Quinn couldn't catch up fast enough to keep Solomon from biting into Santana's neck.

* * *

Rachel reached up for her neck, feeling unseen teeth tear into her skin, and had another idea. She called out, "Quinn!"

The angel glanced her way just as Rachel took the ice from the platform she was standing on and transformed it into a spear, tossing it at Solomon's back. Rachel kept her eyes on the spear the entire time, even as black dots swirled at the edges of her vision.

* * *

Santana was losing consciousness. With her broken wing, Solomon was the only thing keeping her in the sky. She heard Rachel call out for Quinn but was having a hard time locating her girlfriend and her best friend. Feeling her body go limp, Solomon, thinking he'd won, released her. With her throat ripped open, the wound in her thigh and stomach still bleeding, Santana knew without a doubt she was at the end. Despite that, Santana decided if she died, he would die with her.

"You were never supposed to lead," he growled.

Santana, as she used the last of her energy to summon her sword, saw something in the corner of her eye, and she smiled sadly. She impaled her brother in the stomach just as the spear caught him in the chest, going straight through him and into her. They both grunted, shock written on Solomon's face, and Santana leaned her head on his.

"And neither were you," she whispered weakly.

* * *

Rachel, floating in the air with Quinn, fainted as the two demons wrapped in each other's arms hit the ground, sending shockwaves through every realm.


	42. Chapter 42

**A/N: To all the people who stayed and kept reading, and to the new people who stumble upon this story, I want to say thanks for giving it a chance. I fell into a deep depression, and still fighting my way through it while working this story and I honestly didn't want to complete it. I won't give you too many details or go too far into my sob story, but I hated the idea of writing and all I wanted to do was burn my books and move on with my life. I didn't, but I nearly did. Anywho, I appreciate the love and hopefully, when I post another story on this page, I can do it justice. Here is the final chapter, a crappy one but a final one nonetheless.**

 **Thanks again and much love,**

 **TM.**

* * *

 _Two Years Later_

Rachel flipped the page of her magazine, Journey playing through the shop speakers, and completely ignored the line of customers trying to get her attention. The store opened at exactly eight a.m. and considering it was seven fifty-eight, Rachel had two minutes to drown out the voices with celebrity gossip. For the last year and a half, Rachel lived a life most people had nightmares about. There was the shitty job, the shitty boss, and to top it all off, she lived in an even shittier apartment where her landlord preferred doing as little as possible to fix the moldy walls, rusted pipes, and crappy heating. She would leave had the place not been so close to a freshwater lake. Her life went to hell, literally and figuratively, when Santana and Solomon died. It was one thing to watch the love of your life disintegrate into ash, but it was another for the entire world to come crashing down on your head.

Archangels, who'd been waiting patiently beyond the barrier to enter, arrested Quinn and Marcial for treason. Lucifer vanished without a trace after leaving Rachel with a half-hearted goodbye and a promise to maybe see one another later. She had no idea where Maria, Jennifer or Artie went, and witches from across the country traveled to Lima to help rebuild the city, giving her the option of staying or leaving. Rachel, without Quinn, Tina, Santana, or even Lucifer had nothing left for her in Lima. So, she left. She hitchhiked her way across Ohio into Indiana, down to Arkansas, into Oklahoma, across the way to Utah, Colorado, and finally, she landed in a small town on the coast of California. It was warm, breezy, and filled with people who went about their way instead of nosing in on the girl with the strange tattoos, weird obsession with water, and the haunted look in her eyes.

The clock struck eight, and Rachel absentmindedly flicked the switch that unlocked the doors. Customers, locals and tourists alike rushed in, shooting her dirty looks as they passed, and Rachel mentally prepared for another day.

"Excuse me, but you look extremely familiar. Have we met?"

Rachel closed her magazine and looked up, only to nearly break her neck as she crawled over the counter and bear-hugged Quinn to the ground. The blonde laughed and held Rachel just as tight as she was holding her.

"Oh my GOD! What are you doing here?" she exclaimed happily.

"My sentence was overturned months ago, but you are a hard person to find. I was going to track you by your magic, but it would seem you haven't been using it since-

"I can't," Rachel said quickly. "I can't feel it anymore. I know I need to be around water, but other than that, nothing. It's like a numbness around my heart that won't go away."

Someone cleared their throat, and Rachel blushed as she caught her boss staring down at her.

"I thought you said you didn't have any drama in your life that would affect your work here," he said nasally.

Rachel coughed and scrambled to her feet, pulling Quinn up with her. "I don't. I just- she and I are friends and I haven't seen her-

"I don't care," her boss snapped. "Take this shit outside, where you will stay because you will essentially be walking out on the best damn job you'll have in this town or kick her ass out, so you can ring these people up. I don't pay you to squeal like a little girl and roll around on the floor on some weird lesbian shit."

"Fine," Rachel said, shrugging. "Then I quit."

Her boss stammered for a moment as Rachel removed her shirt and ID along with the hat she had to wear, leaving her in a tank top and khaki shorts, and she strolled outside arm in arm with Quinn, who was laughing so hard Rachel was practically carrying her down the street.

"Holy fuck, did you see the look on his face?" Quinn wheezed. "Damn, that was insane."

"Welcome to my life," Rachel said wryly. "But you said you've been tracking me?"

"Oh, yeah. All over the place. When I got sent back, I went to Lima first. They told me you'd left, so I went to Ohio, Indiana, Arkansas, found Maria, Jennifer, and Artie in Texas, then we went to Colorado and finally, we settled in Los Angeles about three months ago. My Dad and Lucifer were trying to find a house, but I couldn't truly settle down until I found you."

"Wait, you're all together? Well," Rachel paused and corrected herself, "most of you."

Something passed over Quinn's face, but Rachel couldn't place it. She said, "Yeah. We decided since we're all stuck together, we might as well stick it out until the end."

"What do you mean stuck together?"

Quinn peeled down her shit and Rachel caught a glimpse of scarring along the back of Quinn's neck. "I've been de-winged. I am, for all intents and purposes, a human. I still have accelerated healing, advanced speed, and strength, but I will eventually die. I am no longer immortal. It was the deal I made to come back down here."

"So, we're both mortals now, huh?" Rachel asked sadly. "Kind of funny how life works."

"Sure. Life's a real fucking comedian," she sighed. "But, enough with the sad shit. I parked near the beach. Do you need to get anything from your place?"

Rachel shook her head. "Nothing I can't replace in LA."

"Cool! Well, come on. Let's go grab the car and then we can meet up with the rest of the family."

Rachel's smile was real but there wasn't much happiness behind it. Quinn frowned, and Rachel hurried to explain. "I promise I'm happy to be reunited with you guys," she said. "But it's just not fair. She literally sacrificed everything and got nothing in return."

Quinn hummed. "I know. It sucks, but I think she wouldn't want you to be down about it. When we get to the beach, we can talk more about it."

"Why at the beach and not now?"

Quinn never answered and kept walking. Rachel was unable to do much other than jog behind Quinn as the former angel walked off in the direction of the ocean. Several times Rachel tried to ask what was so important about the beach, but Quinn said nothing, and eventually, Rachel gave up. Once they made it to their destination, Quinn had a wide smile on her face and Rachel grew wary.

"Okay, what is going on?"

Quinn tapped her chin and asked, "Has it ever occurred to you that you're still alive?"

"Yes, many times. Why?"

"Because I'm pretty sure one of the main things Tina told you back in the day was that if Santana died, you would die also. So, have you ever stopped to wonder why you were still alive if San was supposedly dead?"

Rachel couldn't answer.

"Ah, you know what? How about we just ask the source, huh?" she said.

Rachel grunted as Quinn spun her around forcefully, but her irritation faded into disbelief as a familiar figure came into focus.

"S-San?"

"Is this where I do that cheesy thing and say hi like I haven't been missing for the last two years?"

Unlike her reaction at seeing Quinn, her reaction at seeing Santana overwhelmed her to the point she was on her knees, shells digging into her knees, but she didn't care.

"I think you broke her," Quinn muttered.

"Shut up," Santana sighed. She then dropped down in front of her and said, "Hi, sweetheart. You are a hard girl to find, you know that?"

"I've heard. But- you- they said you were dead," Rachel sputtered.

Santana made a sound in the back of her throat. "Yeah, well, I was. For a moment at least, but when your brother is in control down in the Underworld, things go a little differently. I was sent back under the same circumstances as my father."

"Huh?"

"She's like me, Rach," Quinn said.

"She means I'm human," Santana corrected, "And honestly, I'm tired of it already, but I have a long time to complain about being mortal. Least that's what I'm planning because I'm not going anywhere anytime soon."

"Really?" Rachel whispered.

Santana grinned childishly and nodded. "Yeah, I'm here to stay. No more wars, no more battles, no more overheating, and no more Lima. Just dead-end jobs, small apartments, pizza nights, and coffee overdoses. But most importantly, just you and me."

"Hey!" Quinn exclaimed. "What about me? And your parents? And Marcial, Jennifer, Artie? Jeez, did you forget the whole family?"

"No, but this isn't about you," Santana hissed. "Go away!"

"I'm your ride home dumbass, I'm not going anywhere!"

Rachel listened to them argue, her heart practically overflowing with conflicting emotions, and to ground herself, she rocked forward and tackled Santana to the sand. She peppered kisses all over her face, telling her how much she missed her and loved her, and Santana flipped them over so that she was on top.

"Hey, calm down," she soothed. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm yours for as long as you'll have me."

"Forever?"

"Forever."

"Gag me now," Quinn groaned.

"That can be arranged," Santana growled. "I may not have my powers, but I can still pack a mean punch."

"Whatever. You got your ass kicked by Jennifer six weeks ago and she was half-drunk."

"She BIT ME!"

"And you still lost. Can we go now? I have no intentions of watching you two make-up in the sand. I would rather you do it at the new house Dad found in Los Angeles. That way the rest of the family can pretend like we don't hear you and watch TV at a really loud volume."

Rachel and Santana looked at one another, matching grins on their faces, and Rachel said to Quinn, "We have a lot of making up to do. Think you guys should go out for the night."

"Or two," Santana added.

"Fucking gross. I hate both of you. I should've never agreed to help you find her."

"Oh, whatever. You know you missed me," Rachel teased.

Quinn rolled her eyes and stalked off, flipping them off as she did so. Santana laughed and looked down at Rachel, a suddenly serious look in her eyes.

"I know we have no magic, at least I don't, and that we are literally going into this without any clue on how to live a normal life, but I want to do this right. I want to take you out on dates, make you dinner, and have crazy wild sex with you just for the hell of it and not because one of us might die in some painful, fiery death. Least not in a supernatural way. I want to marry you and adopt a bunch of kids. I want to argue with you on what color to paint the house, what kind of tile to put in the bathroom-

Rachel clamped her hand over Santana's mouth and said, "One, you are correct, I do not have my magic anymore, which sucks but I'll live. Two, enough with the rambling. As you said, I'm not going anywhere. I'm here for as long as you'll have me."

Santana mumbled something, and Rachel removed her hand which allowed her to repeat, "I love you."

"I love you too. Now, come on, I don't want to push our luck with Quinn. She might actually leave us."

"Nah, she can't. I stole the keys."

"Unbelievable."

"You're stuck with me."

"And I wouldn't have it any other way."

Santana kissed her on the cheek, and the two of them ran to the parking lot just before Quinn pulled off and left them behind.

* * *

Watching from a distance, a long-haired blonde wearing a flowing white dress smiled as she felt all that went wrong right itself. It was hard doing what she did, but it needed to be done, and it all worked out in the end. At least that was what she was going to tell her boss. Hiking up her dress, the woman walked down the shoreline. She had a childish urge to scrawl something in the sand, a way to feel as human as someone like her could possibly feel, and she bent down. Scrawling out three words, the woman laughed happily and snapped her fingers, disappearing from sight.

Five minutes later, a little boy with green eyes and red hair would point to his mother and show her a message left behind in the sand.

"Look Mama!" he would exclaim.

"I see. I wonder who she is," his mother would reply playfully.

"We should find her!" he would suggest.

The mother would giggle, ruffling her son's hair, and respond, "I doubt we'll find her, baby. Whoever she is, she's probably long gone by now."

The little boy would sigh, but he would bend down and scrawl his own message right above the one left behind. After they left, the only sign there had ever been another visitor to that spot on the beach would be the smiley face etched directly beside the little boy's message, right on top of the one left behind by the strange woman:

 _'Hi, Brittany!' :)_

 _'Brittany Was Here'_


End file.
